Someone had blundered
by magkiln
Summary: A turian scout force sets out to patrol empty starsystems. A human exploration fleet makes ready to approach a dormant mass relay. Soon their paths will cross and if they fail to make peaceful contact, the consequences will be deadly. Rated T for violence
1. Prologue

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th century fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**Someone had blundered is a continuation of my story: ****Someone has heard them scream****. It actually starts about three weeks before the events of ******Someone has heard them scream**** and will continue from there, describing the events of the First Contact War and the introduction of Alien's humanity into the Mass Effect galaxy. **I will try to write it in such a away that it can be read as a stand-alone story, but several characters (including the ones I made up) from ****Someone has heard them scream**** will make appearances**. **I will also continue with the occasional upload to the story ****intelligence reports****, which contains additional background information pertaining to this mixed Alien/ME universe.  
**

**To put the story in prespective relative to both universes, I see the Mass Effect universe as being at the same stage as it was for the canon first contact war. Humans have gone through the events of Alien and Aliens, with the destruction of LV-426 now about 50 years in the past. However, our technology has started to deviate somewhat, because we reverse-engineered the Space-jockey's ship, giving us access to element zero technology. (My way of stitching the two universes together.) There are no prothean ruins on Mars and humans have not found a mass relay in our own solar system.**

**The title comes from Alfred, lord Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade**.

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**July 10, 2228 Human reckoning**

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride, Flagship of the Turian 24th reconnaissance squadron, patrolling the borders of citadel space**

Knowing that the eyes of several of his fellow officers were upon him, Captain Praeus Livestian carefully hid any sign of nerves as he studied the starmap that was currently on display. Not that there was anything about the map to make him nervous, just a series of empty star systems, none of which contained more than stars, gas giants, and empty rocks that were generously labelled planets.  
To anyone other than a professional astrophysicist, they looked singularly uninteresting. However, it was not the starmap itself that caused him to be nervous. While he had seen maps such as this many times before, it was the first time that he watched one with the eye of a commanding officer, rather than that of a subordinate. His promotion to command of the 24th reconnaissance squadron was less than a month old and his new duties felt like a heavy weight resting on his shoulders.  
Assignments such as this were supposed to be easy, simple, an opportunity for a newly promoted officer to settle into his new responsibilities at a leisurely pace. At least that was the theory. In reality it was exactly during this kind of routine patrols that reconnaissance squadrons sometimes encountered unexpected problems that were not covered by the regulations, and when that happened it was up to their commanding officers to make the right call. Commanding officers like one Praeus Livestian, who was now seriously questioning the wisdom of accepting this recent promotion. Unfortunately, it was too late to do anything about it now.  
With a final glance at the starmap he turned to his second in command.

"Has the entire squadron signalled their readiness?"

"Yes, Captain. All ships are standing by for your orders." He could hear the eagerness in her voice, despite her efforts to hide it. That was another problem: Liestra Tirius was a fine officer, but she too was recently promoted and young for her responsibilities._ Look on the bright side, at least she will not constantly second guess you based on long experience._ It wasn't a very comforting thought. On this particular occasion being second-guessed didn't sound so bad. On his previous posting his most senior subordinate had been a middle-aged, highly experienced sergeant. Considered something of a failure by turian standards, sergeant Horation had lacked the drive and ambition to rise any higher in the ranks of the hierarchy, but he had accumulated a great deal of experience over the course of his career. Experience that he had shared, often unasked, with anyone who would listen. It had been a source of considerable annoyance at the time, but right now captain Livestian wished he had the sergeant, or someone like him, to look over his shoulder and spot any mistakes he might make.

"Good. I want to leave within the hour. We'll jump into the sector through Relay 288, then sweep through all five systems, one at a time. He tapped a command and lines appeared on the starmap, connecting the individual systems. I assume that you have familiarized yourself with these systems?"

"Of course, captain."

"Have you found anything of interest in these systems?"

"Not as far as we know, sir. The third system contains a primary mass relay, Relay 314, but it hasn't been activated. Otherwise, there is nothing there."

"I agree. A rather boring part of the galaxy. Well, boring duty is still duty and we can use the time to do additional training exercises." He looked at the map again, trying to remember if there was anything else that needed to be done. He could think of nothing. _Time to show myself worthy of my position_.

"Lieutenant Tirius, signal the squadron: 'All ships, set course for the relay. Upon arrival we will jump to Relay 288.' Once all ships have acknowledged, you may take the Pride to the relay yourself."

-o-o-o-

One by one the ships of the 24th reconnaissance squadron, four cruisers and two frigates, approached the relay and disappeared from local space, only to appear, almost instantaneously, more than a two hundred lightyears away.

* * *

**USM Science Vessel Auriga, Shanxi system**

Captain Michael Jankoswki felt considerable satisfaction as he looked around the conference room. He had good reason. His was arguably the most desirable of all duty assignments: commanding officer, USM Auriga. The latest, the biggest, the best. True, she wasn't actually a combat vessel, but under the circumstances that was something of an advantage. If he'd been assigned to command a carrier, or a destroyer squadron, chances were he'd spend most of his time in some pathetic little office, while his ships were either docked at a maintenance station, or simply riding in orbit around whatever planet happened to be nearby.  
That was the problem with peacetime duty. There just wasn't anything to do. Lately the United Systems Military hadn't even managed to secure funding for their annual naval exercises. Some beancounting pencil pusher in a cubicle somewhere had decided that simulators were good enough. Simulators! As though a simulator could ever replace the real-life experience of orchestrating a fleet manoeuvre. No, combat commands were no longer the plum assignments these days. The best you could hope for was that some disaster on a backwater colony would be severe enough to warrant a naval deployment to ship in food and blankets. Exploration, that was the new big thing, the coveted position, and the fast track toward flag rank. And when it came to exploration, Auriga was the best.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard USM Auriga,' Jankowski said to the assembled naval officers and civilians in the room. "In particular, I would like to welcome captain Sakai of USM Gallipoli and Commander Dupont of USM Bomarsund." He glanced at the two officers, who nodded by way of greeting. "Their ships arrived in Shanxi today and will be our escorts for the near future. With their arrival we have also received permission from USM command to commence our operation."

He paused for a moment as a murmur went around the room. This was the news they had al been awaiting for weeks.

"Gallipoli and Bomarsund are currently taking on fresh supplies from Shanxi as this will be their last opportunity to do so for the near-future. Once resupply has been completed we will leave Shanxi system and make for the newly discovered relay at LV-758. That is where our scientific experts will take over. Dr. Xui?"

Jennifer Xui, one of the two civilians in the conference room looked up.

"Yes Captain?"

"I was given to understand that there is something special about this particular relay. Is that correct?"

"Yes, captain." She looked around the room to make sure that she had everyone's attention. What she was about to say was probably know, at least to some of the people here, but it was worth repeating. "All relays we have found so far, like the one here in Shanxi, and the Arcturus relay that was our first discovery, link to multiple nearby relays. The one in LV-758 seems to be of a slightly different design. The initial inspection, made by the team that discovered it, was somewhat cursory, and I could have wished for better data. Still, assuming that the data is correct, this relay is capable of producing more power, allowing travel across a longer distance. However, it lacks the interface that allows ships to select a destination. This has led us to believe, that this relay can only take us to a single destination, albeit one that is further away than normal."

"Thank you, doctor," Jankowski took over smoothly. "Once we reach the relay, drs. Xui and Fasse and their team will activate it. That shouldn't take us more than a day. Once the relay is active, we'll send one of our escorts through as a scout. Assuming everything goes according to plan, Auriga will follow. We will then proceed with exploring the surrounding systems at the other end of the relay. I believe, and I'm sure that you will all agree, that Auriga's unique design will allow us to perform a more thorough investigation in a shorter time frame than has ever been possible. In fact-"

-o-o-o-

"Can you believe that guy?" Jennifer Xui asked Leon Fasse as they walked back toward their quarters.

"Who, our captain?"

"No, Santa Clause. Of course, our captain. Seriously, to hear him talk, you'd think he'd personally build this ship with his bare hands and that we're going to use it to find the Holy Grail, or something."

"Come on, Jennifer, cut the man a little slack. Commanding a ship like this is a big deal, especially with so much of the navy being mothballed these days. I still don't believe they were willing to spend the money on something this big. I mean, this ship is huge!"

"Yes, a little over a kilometre long actually. As big as a fighter carrier. In fact, that's why naval command signed off on it."

"What do you mean?"

"I talked with a couple of people in naval R&amp;D when we got assigned here. It turns out the navy couldn't get the budget for a new carrier design past the Assembly, because there are just too many pacifists around, these days. So they presented this as an exploration ship. All the peace-puppies happy, but in reality you can take the same hull, slap a couple of fighter bays onto the sides, and you have a carrier. That's the plan, anyway. In a few years, the navy will apply again for a new carrier and present the fact that the hull-design is already finished as a cost-saving exercise."

"Clever."

"Oh, yes. I suppose that's part of the reason Jankowski is looking so smug. Not only did he get one of the few active commands in the navy where he will actually get to do something, he also gets to run field tests on what is basically a new carrier design."

"Lucky man," Leon grinned. "I think I see admiral's stars in his near future."

"Exactly."

Jennifer came to a halt as they reached the door to her cabin.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Early! We still have a lot to do and I don't think our dear captain would appreciate it, if we caused any delays on his road to glory."

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**I put the story in 2228 based on the Alien timeline (Approximately 50 years after the events of Aliens)**

**Auriga was the name of the science ship in Alien Resurrection. According to the background info, that one is more than 3 kms long. I reduced that to make her a better fit for the ME universe, but still a huge ship.**

**Michael Jankowski was the captain that bungled first contact with the minbari in Babylon 5.**

* * *

**A/N. A reviewer for ****someone has heard them scream**** complained about the excess length of my author's notes, which could, occasionally, become very long. I will try to keep them short this time. Instead, if I feel that a review needs a lengthy reply, I will either respond by PM, or, if I think it should be publicly available, I will put it on the review page.**


	2. A chance encounter

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**July 15, 2228 Human reckoning**

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride, uninhabited star system**

Captain Livestian watched with approval as a flight of shuttles soared upward from the planetary surface toward his squadron. Not that there had been anything worth visiting on that particular dustball, but the landing operation had been carried out flawlessly.

"I believe the exercise went well, sir," lieutenant Tirius remarked.

"Indeed it did, lieutenant. Please pass my compliments to the Pride's crew, as well as to the rest of the squadron. Patrolling empty sectors may not be the most exciting duty in the fleet, but our officers and crews have reason to be proud of themselves." Captain Livestian took another look at the map. "It also looks as though we have inspected every speck of dust in this system, so I see no reason to delay our departure. The next system is the one with the dormant relay, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I suppose that makes it at least somewhat interesting. Let's get the squadron underway."

* * *

**USM Auriga, in FTL, approaching LV-758**

"Less than an hour until we drop out of light speed," captain Jankoswki said with obvious satisfaction. "We are exactly on schedule."

Jennifer Xui threw a look at Leon Casse. The captain had invited the two senior members of his science team to observe from the bridge as Auriga approached her destination and he was clearly intent on making sure that they realized that the navy, and in particular captain Jankoswki, had so far fulfilled their part of the operation perfectly.

"That is good to hear, captain," she answered. "I hope that the rest of this project will proceed just as smoothly."

"You are concerned that it might not, doctor Xui?"

"I am always concerned, captain. Oh, I have little doubt that we will be able to activate the relay. We do have some experience in those matters, after all. No, I'm more worried about the next phase. With the previous relays we always had a good idea of the general area in which we would end up once we passed through the relay. This time, we're taking a leap into the unknown. There is no telling, what we will encounter on the other end of that relay. Or who."

"First contact? Do you actually think that might happen?"

"Strictly speaking, it wouldn't be the first time, now would it, captain?"

Jankowski stiffened. This was not a subject that was open to general discussion."I'm not sure what you mean."

"Please, I have top-level security clearances, captain. So does dr. Fasse. We are all aware of what Weyland-Yutani found on LV-426. That was evidence that there has been at least one other space-travelling species other than ourselves. Two, if we count whoever build the relays, and, no, I don't believe for a moment that they were the same species. The technology is just too different. Both might still be around somewhere and there might be others. It's a big galaxy and we have only explored a tiny fraction of it."

"Which also means, that we might never meet each other, doctor. As you say, it is a big galaxy and inhabitable planets are few and far between. A score of sentient species might travel around for thousands of years without ever encountering each other."

"Under normal circumstances, yes, captain. But the circumstances are far from normal. The relays change the whole situation. Any species that encounters such a relay will inevitably start to use them. They are just too convenient; and that creates a highway system through the galaxy where we are all destined to run into each other sooner rather than later." Jennifer paused a moment. "Look, captain, I don't want to sound alarmist, or be the woman that cried wolf, but it is something that we have to consider, especially in a situation such as this. We have absolutely no idea, where in the Milky Way we're going to end up and there is a possibility that we're going to emerge on somebody's doorstep."

"And you believe they might be hostile?"

"Captain, humans can be quite hostile when it comes to unannounced visitors and we also have a tendency to be scared of anything we don't understand. Those are survival traits. Any species that has managed to reach the stars is likely to have similar attributes. Let's not forget, the one alien ship we've ever seen carried a cargo of xenomorph eggs. I can think of very few peaceful applications for those. I'm not saying that another species is going to shoot us on sight, but I think it's better that we are prepared to encounter some difficulties."

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see, doctor. In any case, we have our escorts and Auriga herself is not entirely defenceless. I'm confident that we will at least be able to escape back through the relay, should we encounter hostiles on the other side. Besides, we are dropping off FTL communication bouys to maintain the link with Shanxi. If we run into serious trouble rear-admiral van Buren will come to our aid with the Shanxi system defence squadron. Half a dozen destroyers should be enough to give anyone second thoughts about taking us on." Jankowski smiled. "Knowing van Buren, he's probably hoping for just such an opportunity."

"Really?" Jennifer Xui kept her voice carefully neutral.

"Oh, yes. Admiral van Buren is well known in the navy. He has been agitating for years against the reduction in active naval strength. He would relish an opportunity to prove his point." A light started to blink on the captain's console. "But never mind that now. Dr. Xui, dr. Fasse, we have arrived at LV-758."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride, near Relay 314**

The 24th reconnaissance squadron had dropped out of FTL several hours earlier and was slowly making its way through the system, which, despite the presence of the dormant mass relay, was even more boring than the last one. At least that system had a few real planets that had proven useful for a landing exercise. This system boasted only one single gas giant and two asteroid belts, none of which held anything even remotely of interest.

"Anything of interest, lieutenant Tirius?"

"Nothing, sir."

"As I suspected. Very well, set a course for the gas giant. We'll discharge our drive cores before we proceed to the next system."

At that precise moment, alarms started ringing.

"FTL transit spotted! We have multiple incoming ships."

"Captain Livestian, we have spotted three unknown ships. Their energy signatures do not match any known profile."

Livestian did not hesitate. "Cut all power to the engines and stop active transmissions. Signal the squadron to copy."

Within seconds the 24th reconnaissance squadron turned into six seemingly inanimate objects, floating through space as though they were part of the star system.

"Send out recon drones. Passive censors only. We will do nothing to alert them to our presence until we're ready. Do we have enough data from their energy readings to estimate the size of those ships?"

Lieutenant Tirius looked at her display.

"It's tough to say, captain, but from the look of things, two of them are cruiser sized. The third is bigger. A lot bigger."

That was not a good sign. Still, it might not be as bad as it sounded. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Even if the smaller ones are warships, the third may be a large transport. We'll know soon enough In the mean time, let's see if we can determine where they came from. Search the reports from the original explorers of this sector. There are not supposed to be settlements in any of the surrounding systems, but it might be worthwhile to see if any of them contain planets that might be worth colonizing."

-o-o-o-

It took more than an hour for the drones to come within passive sensor range of the unknown ships. The drones were small, provided with the best stealth systems that salarian technicians had been able to provide. It seemed to work, because the unknown ships gave no indication that they were aware of the little observers.

The arrival of the first scan results came as something of a relief. Livestian and his officers had searched for more information on nearby systems. Unfortunately, this had proved to be rather frustrating. They were on the very border of council space and the neighbouring star systems remained largely unexplored. Some of the available information predated the Rachni War and there were large gaps in it. Most likely the result of abandoned exploration programs that had never been resumed afterwards because of the council's reluctance to continue exploring and, potentially, encounter more hostile species.  
As Livestian looked at the first set of images, the sense of relief disappeared. The two smaller ships seemed identical and, although the design was utterly alien, they were clearly warships. The Pride's computers were were analysing the images and had already made tentative identification of multiple gunports as well as several small cupolae that seemed designed for a type of GARDIAN short range laser defence system.

"What about the larger ship?"

"Images coming in right now, captain." Lieutenant Tirius was silent for a few seconds. When she spoke again there was a tautness in her voice. "It doesn't look good, sir. That ship is more than a kilometre in length and the energy output of her eezo core is simply too large for a freighter that size, even if such a freighter could be economical. I can see multiple launch bays for small craft at the underside of the hull, at least three GARDIAN lasers just on one side. They seem to have some sort of turret on top of the hull, but the drone came in at the wrong angle. I cannot be certain what they've mounted in there, but I don't think it's something peaceful. Captain, that's a warship, just like the other two."

"A dreadnought."

"Judging by the size, yes sir."

Can you spot any resemblance to known ship designs?"

"No captain. Nobody builds ships like this. I mean, look at them. It's as though somebody slapped a bunch of cargo-boxes together and called it a ship."

"I agree that they're lacking in aesthetics, lieutenant, but that leaves us with two questions: Who are these people; and what are they doing here? There aren't that many dreadnought designs around and they should all be in our database. Even if it these are old ships, perhaps sold for scrap and refurbished by mercenaries or pirates, the general design style should still be recognizable."

"Captain..," The lieutenant hesitated. "Do you think...? Is this a first contact situation?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Livestian felt amusement at the excitement in her voice. It had been centuries since the last time any of the citadel races had made first contact with a spacefaring civilization. It was the one-in-a-million chance that made years, even decades of dull, monotonous patrols worthwhile, and would be a major career boost to everyone involved.

"It seems the most likely explanation, lieutenant." "

But what are they doing here?" Turius asked. "This system is all but empty. Why would anyone patrol an empty system with a dreadnought?"

Livestian looked up. "The mass relay! They have to be here for the relay."

"But the relay is dormant."

"Or so we think. If these people have an inhabited planet nearby, they may have activated it."

Lieutenat Tirius looked shocked. "That would be a blatant violation of citadel law."

"And how are they supposed to know that, lieutenant? If, as I suspect, these ships belong to an unknown species, then most likely, they are not even aware of the existence of the citadel. Never mind the citadel council, let alone citadel law. Or they may actually come from the other side of the relay." He thought for a moment. "Alright, let's not borrow trouble. Send a signal to the relay to see if it has been activated. If it is, well, then the damage is done and we should make first contact as quickly as possible. If not, we can take the time to observe these people for a bit."

* * *

**USM Auriga, system LV-758**

"Welcome to LV-758," captain Jankowski said as he surveyed the holographic map of the star system. "I'm happy to say that the the FTL communication-buoys that we dropped off on our way here seem to be working well. We'll be able to maintain direct communications with Shanxi and keep them updated on our progress." He gestured toward the map. "As you can see, the system is largely empty; but it does contain a gas giant, which comes in useful. We will be able to discharge our drive cores, before we proceed to the relay.

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

The waiting had been agonizing, but so far the news had been better than expected. Relay 314 was still dormant, which had bought captain Livestian a little time. The unidentified vessels had moved in system and were in the process of discharging their drive cores in the local gas giant, just as the 24th squadron had intended. As Livestian watched on his sensor screen the massive alien ship moved away from the planet to join its smaller companions. The question was, what they intended to do next. The answer came quickly.

"Captain, there is no doubt about it. They are moving toward the relay."

"Spirits! So much for waiting and observing. The question is, what do we do now?"

"Surely our duty is clear, captain? We cannot let them activate a relay, especially a primary relay! Who knows what might be on the other side? Citadel law-"

"I'm fully aware of citadel law, lieutenant. I'm also aware of citadel rules for first contact. Unfortunately, those two seem to contradict each other. I doubt the council, or the Hierarchy would approve of us using violence against an unknown species. Especially, against an unknown species that builds dreadnoughts. The whole purpose of the citadel law regarding dormant relays is to prevent wars with unknown species. Not to start them. But even if we ignore that point, or the legal issues concerning jurisdiction, how do you suggest that we stop a dreadnought from going wherever it wants to go? That's a big ship out there and there is no way to tell how much firepower she packs. Frankly, I'd rather not find out the hard way."

Lieutenant Tirius had no reply to that. Unfortunatley, neither had Livestian, which rather limited his tactical options.

"If we cannot let them activate the relay and we cannot use force other than as a last resort, we only have one option left. We'll have to convince these people. We'll detach one of the frigates. Send it back to Relay 288 to contact fleet command with our findings. The rest of the squadron will move in and make contact. Once we've established communications we'll try to disuade them from opening the relay, or at least delay them until the fleet can send us some support with trained diplomats."

"Captain, there may not be time for that. Starting a first contact routine from nothing can take days, weeks even."

"That may actually work in our favour. The longer we can stall them, the better. In any case, we have a first contact package based on prothean data formats, right? We'll use that. Whoever they are, their ships use eezo cores and they seem to be familiar with the mass relays. They must have at least some understanding of prothean technology."

-o-o-o-

The commanding officer of the frigate Talon Strike was far from happy to be selected to run errants under these circumstances, but the strict chain of command that ruled the turian Hierarchy was very useful for these situations. As much as the young lieutenant might dislike it, he would obey orders; and frankly, Livestian would be glad to see him go. Although Saren Arterius was generally considered a 'good turian' with a great career ahead of him, Livestian had not taken a liking to him. The young officer was a bit too convinced of both his own talent and the inherent superiority of all things turian. That kind of attitude was the last thing Livestian needed right now. No, it was far better to keep Arterius as far away from this new species as possible.  
Livestian closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself to give the next order.

"Signal the squadron: Resume active scans and start your engines. Make for the relay. I want to arrive there before these aliens."

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**A/N Thanks to ****A Mountain Sage**** who mentioned in a review of ****Someone has heard them scream**** that the use of prothean technology by the ME races would increase commonality of systems. Hence the turians' plan to communicate that way. Too bad they stumbled upon the one species that doesn't use it.**

**Some people are bothered by me reducing the size of Auriga,'nerfing' the humans, but that is not my intention. I'm not necessarily reducing capabilities, just the sizes.  
Please keep in mind: 1) Alien Resurrection took place 200 years after Aliens, not 50 as in my story, so by all means think of this as the canon Auriga's predecessor. 2) I had already decided to give the human military eezo drives for FTL, which limits ship sizes (see the companion story ****intelligence reports****). 3) The canon Auriga was the size of the Destiny Ascension. The turians would have to be suicidal to start shooting at something that size, and while she isn't designed for combat, they have no way to be sure of that. She is built to military specifications and she does have some weapons for self-defence.**


	3. First contact

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**July 15, 2228, human reckoning**

**USM Auriga, on approach to Relay 314**

"Contacts! Multiple Contacts."

'What?!" Captain Jankowski punched in a command on his chair and a copy of the sensor image appeared on the screen before him. "Identification?"

"Unknown, sir. Energy signatures suggest that they have element zero cores, but the pattern is not in the database."

"What is their course?"

The sensor tech checked his screen and made a quick calculation.

"One ship moving away toward the outer system. Five more on an intercept course, sir. It looks like they are trying to meet up with us at the mass relay."

"There isn't supposed to be anyone out here," Jankowski said, more to himself than anyone else. "Well, we'll know soon enough. Doctor Xui?"

"Yes, captain."

"Tell your science team to spin up one of their telescopes. I want an optical view of these ships."

"Of course, captain." She hesitated. "Captain... can we be sure that these ships are human?"

"You're thinking of that first contact situation we discussed, doctor?" Jankowski permitted himself a small smile. "I suppose it's possible, but I doubt it. More likely, these are some rogue traders that have set up a little outpost somewhere nearby. It's happened before. That, or someone is scouting out the neighbourhood for likely settlement spots, trying to get the jump on the competition."

"But shouldn't the computer be able to recognise their energy signatures."

"In theory, yes, but in the early days after the discovery of element zero a lot of people pulled the tachyon shunts out of their ships and had them replaced with eezo cores. That led to a lot of variations. You can be sure that not all of them made it into the database. To be honest, I'm more concerned as to what these people are doing here. No one has been permitted to operate commercially in this sector yet. The Assembly was waiting until we opened the mass relay before granting mining concessions and colonisation rights. If these people have established anything even remotely like a permanent base, there will be hell to pay. Still, you'd think they would be running away from us. Not trying to get closer. I don't like this. I don't like this one bit."

-o-o-o-

"It seems you were right, after all, doctor Xui." Jankowski was no longer smiling. "These are definitely not human designs."  
Together with the two senior scientists, he was staring at the first telescope images that the science team had produced. One look at the strange vessels had been enough to convince anyone that no human had had a hand in their design. The ships streamlined with sharp, raking angles in a shape that was vaguely reminiscent of a bird-of-prey. "Beautiful design, though I cannot fathom why they would bother to make them look like this. The cost increase would have to be enormous, just to make them look pretty."

"Could they be atmosphere capable?" Dr. Fasse asked. "Having a streamlined shape helps a lot if you have to manoeuvre in an atmosphere."

Jankowski looked at the tentative data they had compiled so far. "I suppose it could be possible. The smaller ones, I would say, yes. They are about the size of our own frigates. The bigger ones... they are the size of a destroyer or rapid deployment vessel. Usually, we don't try to make anything that big land, but I guess it could be done, if you were willing to pay the price in design limitations." He shook his head. "I can tell you one thing though. Whatever these ships are designed to do, it's not peaceful!"

"How so, captain?"

Jankowski snorted. "Look at the shape doctor. I don't care how alien these folks are. No one designs a commercial ship with such limited internal volume, no matter how much they want it to look pretty. Besides, they're accelerating too quickly. No, either these are the galaxy's biggest sports cars, or they're warships; and ship killers at that. With that shape, they don't have much room to carry fighters or shuttles. Four destroyers and a frigate to be precise, with a second frigate running off to report back to base and get reinforcements."

"Captain," Dr. Fasse said. "Don't you think that it's a bit early to draw such conclusions?"

"They match the facts, doctor. Limited facts, yes, but it matches. Those things over there are doing exactly what I would do, if I was patrolling an empty sector of space and suddenly encountered unknown ships. The question is now, what their standing orders are in case of such an eventuality. Do they open communications, or do they shoot first and ask later. As Rr. Xui said, some people get upset if you trespass on their property."

"So, what do we do, captain?" Dr. Xui asked. "Do we leave the system?"

"You cannot be serious!" Fasse protested. "I mean, this is the chance of a lifetime. Our first-ever encounter with an alien civilisation. Captain, surely you aren't just going to run away from them?"

"The United Systems Military doesn't 'just run away', dr. Fasse," Jankowski said frostily. "In any case, leaving the system would be pointless. These aliens have seen us now. They know we have to come from somewhere around here. If we don't communicate with them, they're bound to come looking for us. That means that we'll be making first contact somewhere else, most likely at Shanxi. I'd much prefer to do this in an empty system, where we don't have a couple of million civilians caught in the crossfire. Besides, this is exactly the kind of situation that Auriga was designed for. I'm sending off a report to Shanxi through the FTL communication buoys to inform them of the situation. In the meantime, we'll maintain our current course and speed. These aliens have taken the initiative to show themselves. Let's see what their next move is."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

"Unknown ships maintaining course, captain. They continue toward the relay."

That was not good news. Livestian had secretly hoped that the unknown ships would either make a run for it, or move to approach the 24th squadron. The further they stayed from the relay, the more leeway he had. Still, it seemed that the aliens were not going to cooperate.

"Assume that they maintain their present course. Can we reach the relay before them?"

"I doubt it captain. The approach vector just doesn't work out. Even if we push our engines to the limit, I doubt we'll be able to overtake these ships and still come to a relative stop anywhere near the relay."

"What if we only send a frigate?"

The navigator checked his calculations. "That should work, captain. But the cruisers will not be able to keep up."

"Make it so!" Livestian ordered. "I want to have at least something between them and the relay if at all possible. We'll send our fighters to support the frigate. And start broadcasting a standardized greeting on multiple frequencies. Perhaps they'll understand; and even if they have no idea what we're saying, it will at least tell them that we're open to communications."

* * *

**USM Auriga**

Auriga and her two escorts were continuing on course, just as the aliens were holding theirs, the distance between the two groups was closing steadily. The sensor technicians were focused completely on their viewscreens, looking for even the slightest change in the behaviour of the alien ships.

"Captain, it looks like they're launching fighters. About half a dozen for each of the larger vessels."

"Are they on an attack vector?" Jankowski asked.

"No, sir. It looks like..." the sensor tech was silent for a moment. "Sir, they're splitting up in two groups. The frigate and the fighters are racing ahead toward the relay. The others are holding their current course and speed."

Jankowski studied the new vector plots.

"They may be trying to catch us between them. We'll start decelerating early." He looked at the two scientists. "It'll bring us to a relative stop too far from the relay, but we'll have to accept that. I doubt we'll be activating it anytime soon."

"Sir," The ensign manning communications spoke up. "We're getting a signal. It's omni-directional and they are broadcasting on multiple frequencies. No way to tell what it is, but I think they're trying to communicate with us."

Jankowski relaxed slightly.

"Well, I guess at least they're willing to talk. Still, it does seem a bit optimistic of them to send us that kind of greeting. Let's see if we can do a bit better. Open the first contact instructions and begin."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

The unknown ships had decelerated early. They were matching the orbital velocity of the mass relay but from a relatively large distance. To captain Livestian it was a hopeful sign. The aliens seemed to have delayed whatever plans they had for Relay 314, at least for the moment. Now all he had to do was stall them until somebody else could get out here in and take over. Unfortunately, it would be tough to stall people without the ability to talk to them. So far their communications had not been answered, or at least not in a clear fashion. The aliens had activated a broadband carrier wave that they switched on and off in increasingly complicated patterns. The bridge crew of the Primarch's pride had identified parts of it as mathematical sequences, but the actual intention of the aliens was not very clear. Still, it seemed that both parties were willing to talk. That was good and, now that he had their attention, perhaps the next step would also be successful.

"Lieutenant Tirius, are you ready with the prothean data files?"

"Yes sir, a basic translation for galactic standard, though from what I understand a lot will depend on what version of the prothean language they have found; also, some information on galactic society, our government and laws, and a warning to stay away from the relay."

"Good, send the files."

* * *

**USM Auriga**

Captain Jankowski listened to the latest alien broadcast, or, at least, what Auriga's communication section thought was the alien broadcast. Without some external reference there was no way to be sure that their electronics were processing the signal correctly. Of course, even if they were doing everything right it would still be completely useless because they had no way to translate the language. So far first contact didn't seem to be going very well. Auriga had gone through every number sequence laid down in the first contact protocols, but the aliens seemed to ignore it all and instead kept sending their own messages. Either they were not receiving Auriga's signals, or they were disinclined to respond in a similar fashion. Then again, it was possible that they were responding, or at least thought they were; but, if so, they were not going about it in a very intelligent fashion. The broadcast stopped.

"They've changed their pattern, sir," one of the technicians said. "This is definitely not audio. More like some kind of data package and it's big."

"What is it?"

"I don't know, sir. The file structure is complicated. I have no idea what it's supposed to contain."

_Stranger and stranger. Why do they think we can understand them. Unless..._ An extremely disturbing thought occurred to Jankoswki as he pondered this latest development. "Can it be a hacking attempt?"

The tech hesitated. "I suppose so, captain, their might be a routine hidden inside the files but so far it seems completely inert. No executables; just data."

"Captain," Doctor Fasse spoke up. "how could they possibly hope to interfere in our computers when they can have no possible idea of our operating systems? Surely it's more likely, that this is just their way of making first contact?"

For one moment Jankowski was tempted to throw the civilians of his bridge. To interrupt at such a moment... But he stopped himself. The situation was already tense and he needed all the input he could get. Instead, he forced himself to speak calmly.

"By first talking gibberish and then sending us a huge amount of data that we cannot hope to understand? No, dr. Fasse. I don't think a space travelling race would be that stupid. They have to realise that we need to establish basic communication protocols before we can hope to use something like this. As to the likelihood of success. A good electronic warfare package can match a foreign data structure. Even if it doesn't understand the meaning of the data it can still do a lot of damage. Alright, isolate one of the workstations from the rest of our systems. All future communications go to that computer and only that one. I will not give them the chance to infect our systems. Then let's take another look at the first contact protocol and figure out the next step." He looked at the tactical plot. He now had one group of alien ships in front of him blocking the approach to the mass relay. The second group had come to a relative stop at the same time as Auriga and was matching her position. "What do these people want from us? they were already in-system when we arrived. They wait until we've discharged our drive cores. Then they reveal themselves; and now they seem willing to just broadcast on and on. You'd think they would be better prepared for this kind of situation, or, if they weren't prepared, why reveal themselves at all?"

"Perhaps..." Doctor Xui's voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

"Well, they revealed themselves when we set course for the relay. Perhaps these aliens come from the other side. They may want to prevent us from passing through."

Jankowski nodded thoughtfully.

"I suppose that would explain their behaviour. Still, we'd better make sure. We'll send an enquiry to the relay. See if it's still dormant."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

"Captain, the aliens are transmitting some kind of signal to the mass relay."

"Damnation. Can you interpret the signal?"

"No, sir. We just got some backscatter of the transmission. Sir, if they are trying to activate the relay..."

Livestian could feel the eyes of his entire bridge-crew on him. This was the very thing he had feared from the beginning. The one thing that the aliens might do that he could not allow. Citadel law was absolutely clear in this regard. Dormant mass relays, especially primary mass relays, could not be opened without consent from the council. Consent that was almost never given. That rule had been in place since the Rachni War and it had always been enforced. Still, citadel law regarding first contact was quite clear as well: No violence until all other options had been exhausted. Whichever law he decided to follow he would fail to uphold the other, and they simply didn't know enough about the aliens to tell which option would have the least dire consequences. _But, if they're trying to activate the relay, even with us standing in the way, doesn't that say something about their intentions, their mindset? _He looked around, into the eyes of his fellow officers. He knew what they were expecting, but he couldn't start shooting, not yet. Not while there was still time to defuse the situation. Still, it was time for sterner measures.

_"_All ships lock targeting systems onto the dreadnought. Use maximum power on active sensors. Perhaps that will wake these people up. Then send a clear warning in galactic standard. The Spirits may give that they have finally managed to open that translation package."

* * *

**USM Auriga**

"We're being hit by active sensors, captain. Narrow beam, lots of power."

"What about energy signatures? Are they powering up weapons?"

"No, sir. We're being targeted, but they don't seem to intend to fire."

"That may change soon enough. Return the favour. Cycle targeting between their ships."

"Captain!" This time it was doctor Xui who interrupted. "We still don't know for sure what they want. If we target their ships it may cause them to think we're hostile and-"

"And if we don't we look weak. Besides, we cannot afford to be caught off guard. If they decide to open fire, we need to have targeting solutions locked in advance." Jankowski took a deep breath. "Dr. Xui, between Auriga and our escorts we have nearly three thousand people at risk and none of our ships have been designed for this kind of combat. I am not going to risk all of these lives."

"Captain," that was from communications. "They're hailing us again, more of that gibberish."

"Damn them. What the hell do they think they're doing? Don't they realise that we have no way to translate that stuff?"

"What about the electronic warfare programs?" one of the sensor techs asked. "They're designed to quickly match data patterns. Perhaps, if we turn them lose on the alien communications, at least we'll be able to figure out what those data packages are supposed to be. We can use their own messages as a basis and work from there"

Jankowski hesitated for a moment. Things were going too fast and definitely not in the right direction. He needed information, something that would help him get through this. he was NOT going down in history as the man who screwed up humanity's first contact with an alien civilisation.

"Do it!"

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

"Captain, the aliens are targeting us."

"Prepare to fire a warning shot. If they attempt to signal the relay again, we fire a shot across their bows."

"Captain," Lieutenant Tirius spoke softly, so the rest of the bridge crew could not hear. "We cannot afford to do that. If we fire a shot, even a warning shot, the aliens may return fire. At this range they cannot miss, especially with zero relative velocity. That dreadnought will tear us to shreds."

"Then what do you suggest, lieutenant?"

"Captain, if it comes to a battle, we have to get in the first shot. With four cruisers targeting that ships simultaneously, we may be able to cripple the dreadnought before they can return fire. It's the only way, captain. Anything else, and we might as well cut our own throats."

Livestian looked at the alien dreadnought. His perception of the ship was changing now that he had had the time to study it. From a distance it had seemed ugly, primitive, unfinished; but up close it made a different impression: raw strength. It was a big ship, with purely functional forms, and whoever had designed it had not cared how it looked, only what it could do. He couldn't help but wonder how the aliens aboard viewed his own vessels. Would they admire the sleek lines of the turian cruisers, or would they just dismiss them as useless decorations, a frivolous insistence on form over function. There was no way to tell and right now, everything rested on perceptions. Why wouldn't these people talk to him? Unless... it was as though the thought had been hovering on the edge of his consciousness. And suddenly burst out.

"Lieutenant, the signals that they started with, the pattern, show them to me again."

Within a second the signal appeared on his display. Livestian studied it intently. "Two, three, five, seven..."

"Captain?" Lieutenant Tirius interrupted his thoughts.

"Take a look, lieutenant. They kept sending this sequence. I don't recognise it, but it has to have some meaning for them. The only thing I can think of, is that they are trying to run a basic first contact package, the kind that you use for a pre-spaceflight society"

"But captain, why would they do something like that? We used the prothean data format just so we could skip those steps. They have to know-"

"To know what, lieutenant? We thought that they had at least some knowledge of the protheans because they use eezo drives. But what if that assumption was wrong. What if they have never even heard of the protheans."

"But then how...?"

"Perhaps they figured out eezo drives on their own lieutenant. After all, the protheans did. If that's the case, Spirits know what they thought of our communications."

"We're getting a new signal. Sir, it seems to be at least somewhat similar to our own communications."

Livestian allowed himself to relax a bit. Perhaps things would work out after all. Maybe the aliens had managed to understand his initial messages after all. If that was the case they could finally start talking and maybe-

"Captain, there is something in that signal. It's like... I don't know sir. I've never seen this kind of signal before."

"That is not helpful," Livestian snapped. A part of him was ashamed that he was taking his worries out on a crewmember, but then again, this was a really pointless report. "What is it doing?"

"It's... It's changing, captain. It's matching the communication format. I've never seen anything like it. Some of the changes it implements seem almost... intuitive."

"What?! Are you saying it's an AI?"

"Captain, I just don't know. It's matched our standard dataformat. Now it's probing the firewalls."

"Close the open communication ports! Leave only the point-to-point signals between our own ships." Even as he gave the order, Livestian could feel the despair taking over. They had gone from a relatively peaceful encounter to imminent hostility and all without actually exchanging a single word and if these people actually used Artificial Intelligence for electronic warfare, they had a whole new problem. He hated to take the next step, but the lives of his crews depended on him and he simply couldn't take any further risks.

"All ships, stand by to fire on the dreadnought. Do not, I repeat do NOT open fire unless at my command."

* * *

**USM Auriga**

The sensor tech who had been operating the electronic warfare package raised his virtual reality helmet.

"It's no use, sir. I have a match for their i/o format, but now they have closed all outside communication links. It's a hardware lock, so, no way to bypass. I can try to get in through their sensor links, but it will be very tough. Their systems are..., well, they're really alien, sir. The VR environment doesn't even know how to visualize them. Even with their comm systems I was playing guessing games."

"Don't try. The situation is too tense already. If they catch us meddling with their systems anymore it might just tip the balance in the wrong direction."

Jankowski thought for a moment. There had to be something else he could do. Something that would increase their odds of survival in case of a battle, without needlessly provoking one. He looked at the alien ships. One ship, the frigate, and its accompanying fighters were blocking the approach to the relay. The other four were deployed in a vertical square, with a ship on each corner, their bows pointed toward Auriga's flank. These were the ones that concerned him most. The frigate on its own was simply too small to be much of a threat. the fighters could be, if they were carrying specialized ordnance, but they were currently out of range, so there would be ample warning if they tried anything. But the destroyers, or whatever they were, that was a whole different story. They were well within effective range for any destroyer sized mass accelerator that Jankwoski had ever seen. From where they were, the four of them could poor fire into Auriga's flank. _That's it_!_ If we turn towards them, we'll present a smaller target and the armour is strongest at the bow because of the slope. It'll render half the RDV's weapons useless, but it's not like they have much of a chance against these odds anyway._

"Helm, come 90 degrees starboard. Aim the bow directly toward these ships. Order our escorts to follow."

"Sir, we have an energy spike! They're powering weapons."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

"Captain!"

Livestian was rapidly coming to dread hearing that call.

"Yes?"

"Sir, the dreadnought... It's turning toward us."

"Captain," lieutenant Tirius sounded close to panicking. "They're bringing their spinal mass accelerator to bear! We have to act now!"

Livestian hesitated for an instant. On his display, he could see the ominous bulk of the dreadnought as it swung toward them. No cruiser could hope to stand up against even a single hit of that kind of weapon.

"Captain!"

It was too late. He simply didn't have any time left to come up with an alternative, let alone implement it.

"All ships, open fire!"

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**I have no idea if a human using a VR interface would appear like an AI, but it doesn't seem impossible. That's why I introduced the TekWar style hacking.**

**See the relevant chapters in ****Someone has heard them scream**** and ****Intelligence reports**** for more information about the number sequence game that Auriga is playing as a start for first contact.**

**It may cause some confusion, but I'm following the modern tendency to use the classification 'destroyer' for mid-sized warships, rather than 'cruiser'. It makes sense that humanity would just continue to do that. So, what humans call a destroyer would be ship of the same size as a turian cruiser, and dedicated to ship-ship warfare. The Rapid Deployment Vessels (RDVs) are of similar size, but designed for patrol duties and landing operations.**


	4. Deliberations and preparations

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**Thanks everyone for your reviews. I'm glad you liked the last chapter.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**USM Osawa, flagship of the Shanxi naval district. In orbit around Shanxi**

Rear-admiral Johan van Buren looked up from the message he had just received.

"I assume that this is not some kind of elaborate joke?" He asked captain Xia Shen, his chief of staff, who had brought him the message.

"Not as far as I know, sir. It came through Auriga's FTL buoys. And I cannot image that anyone would-"

"Never mind, I believe you. It's just that... This is a little much to take in." The admiral was silent for a moment, then he said. "I don't like this, Shen. I don't like this at all. Our people are outnumbered two to one. Auriga is basically just a big, fat target, and Gallipoli and Bomarsund are primarily troop transports. They're not designed or equipped for ship to ship combat."

"You believe these aliens are hostile, admiral?"

"I don't think we can afford to believe otherwise, Shen. At least not until we know more. Whoever they are, they're flying around in an empty star system with half a dozen warships. You don't do that just because you're bored; and the fact that they can spare that many ships for such a task shows they must have a lot more of them. They may not be actively hostile, but they are at least prepared to be, and we have a lot of people at risk. Auriga alone has a complement of more than two thousand, No, we cannot take that risk. How long before the squadron can get underway?"

"Surcouf and Themistocles are undergoing maintenance, sir. They will not be ready for at least twelfth hours. The other four are ready to go within the hour."

"Then we go with what we have. It's bad enough that Jankowski will be out on his own there for another forty-eight hours. There is no way I'm going to make that period any longer. We'll leave Surcouf and Themistocles here as a reserve. Draft a message for USM command at Arcturus station. We'll need reinforcements in case the aliens are hostile. And get me a connection to general Williams, ground-side. We have a lot to discuss."

As the chief of staff left the admiral's cabin, van Buren turned back to the message. Six alien warships, four destroyers and two frigates from the looks of it, all of them within striking distance of Shanxi and god only knew how many more to back them up if it came to open conflict. In itself, it was not a comforting thought, but perhaps this particular cloud just might have a silver lining.

Rear-admiral van Buren had known for a while that his career was coming to an end. That was partially due to politics. His open criticism of the recent cutbacks in the military budget had not won him any friends, especially among the representatives of Earth's United Nations which still formed the largest single power block within the Assembly. However, there was a deeper underlying reason for his stalled career: van Buren loved destroyers. Always had, always would. He loved everything about them: the sheer raw power of the spinal mass accelerators that set them apart from all other naval vessels, their banks of ASAT missiles, the massive engines that provided them with an acceleration and manoeuvrability far in excess of anything their size. Most of all, van Buren loved the fact that destroyers were warships, pure and simple. Every other ship type in the United Systems Military was some kind of multitasker, which inherently led to design compromises. Frigates were designed for short patrols, law enforcement tasks, and reconnaissance. Rapid Deployment Vessels had to perform both long range patrols and planetary assaults. Carriers were more mobile spacestations than actual ships and had to perform a host of other functions besides deploying fighters, ranging from command and control to deploying marine dropships. Destroyers were the exception. They were ship killers, no more no less, and every aspect of their design was focussed on that single task. To van Buren that purety of design had a beauty all by itself.  
Unfortunately, that same design philosophy was also the destroyer's greatest handicap. They were designed for the sole purpose of destroying ships, but what ships were they supposed to destroy? Mankind's exploration of space had generally been a peaceful affair and what little military action had taken place, had always focussed on ground combat. Even in the chaotic years following the LV-426 incident, when the colonies rose up against the corporations and the various military services had seized the opportunity to throw off the joke of corporate control, there had been very little real naval combat. Opposition in space, if it occurred at all, had usually been in the form of small, lightly armed frigates operated by corporate security, or hastily modified freighters pressed into service by colonists and equipped with a few outdated weapons. Not a single one of them was worth the firepower of a destroyer's main battery. Since then, things had only gotten worse. These days the only opposition in space came from smugglers and the occasional pirate, none of them capable of mounting even the slightest defence against a warship, and that left the navy's destroyers without a single purpose.  
As a result, the navy's destroyer strength had decreased steadily over the last two decades, with more and more of them being parked at some dock with only skeleton crews on board, or abandoned completely in orbit around a convenient planet. The six-ship squadron guarding Shanxi was about as big a concentration of destroyers as you would find anywhere in known space these days. For a man like van Buren, who had spent most of his career aboard such ships, there were very few opportunities for command, let alone advancement. Still, things could change. If there truly were aliens out there, aliens with a significant navy, then humanity would have a need for a strong naval presence of its own, even if it was only to serve as a peacetime deterrent.

* * *

**Arcturus station, USM general headquarters**

In a small conference room, three senior officers were studying the messages that had just arrived from the human colony at Shanxi.

"Well, this is certainly something new. I'm glad I was here when this message arrived," General Thomas Spears commented. It had indeed been a rare case of good luck that he'd been at Arcturus. As the United Systems Military chief of staff, he spent more time than he liked on Earth playing politics. "I suppose it isn't completely unexpected. Still to have it actually happen..." He shook his head in amazement. "It seems that we live in interesting times, with all that that phrase implies. So, what do you think our response should be? Can we afford to wait for further news, or do we have to be proactive on this?

Admiral Kastanie Drescher, the only naval officer in the room, studied the data again. As commanding officer of Second Fleet, which was responsible for the sector surrounding Arcturus, including Shanxi, she would be the one who had to clean up the mess if things went wrong. General Perez, the third person in the room, and her marine counterpart, would of course be involved as well, but it seemed likely that any conflict would start as a naval engagement. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the deck was very much stacked in favour of just such a situation.

"I'm afraid we have to take this very seriously, general," she said. "I have to agree with admiral van Buren's assessment. A naval force that strong, just patrolling an empty system, suggests that they have a powerful fleet. Any species that maintains that much firepower is a threat, at least a potential one. Until we know otherwise we have to make preparations to defend ourselves."

"And the chances of a successful first contact?"

"Honestly, I don't know, general. It's not as though we have any precedent to base ourselves on. And to be frank, I'm not entirely happy about the person on the spot either."

"Captain Jankowski, admiral? I only met him briefly, while Auriga was still in dock here at Arcturus. He seemed impressive enough. Is there something I should be aware of?"

Admiral Drescher hesitated. She didn't like the idea of criticising one officer in front of another, especially one from a different branch of the service. Still, there were some things that needed to be said, no matter how distasteful.

"Captain Jankowski is not a bad officer, general. Unfortunately, he, too, is quite impressed with himself, perhaps more than is warranted. On top of that, he is impatient. Likes to take shortcuts. As a subordinate he functioned quite well, but as a commander on the scene... I don't think he's the right man to handle this kind of situation, and he doesn't have the necessary humility to listen to the advice of others." She sighed. "Then we have rear-admiral van Buren..."

Spears smirked. "Ah, yes, mr. 'you can never have enough firepower' himself. Him I do know. I'm amazed he's still in the service after all his tirades against our esteemed political leadership. Not that he is wrong exactly, but he has an unfortunate tendency to say things out loud that should be treated with a little circumspection."

"I couldn't say, general." Admiral Drescher carefully kept all emotion out of her voice. She had her own opinions on the most recent military policies laid down by the Assembly, but it wouldn't do to air those in public, even among fellow officers. That was precisely the sort of thing that had gotten a man like van Buren side-lined, and she wasn't going to fall into the same trap. "To be honest, general. Van Buren is absolutely the worst man to back up Jankowski. You can see it from his message. To him, this is the vindication of all his speeches in favour of naval expansion."

"Admiral, do you seriously think that he would provoke hostilities, just to prove his point?"

"Not deliberately perhaps, general. But he'll go in looking for trouble and if he looks hard enough... Even if he moves at maximum speed, then by the time he arrives Jankowski will have been in contact with these aliens for about forty eight hours. That's a lot of time for things to go wrong, and if anything has gone wrong, van Buren won't stop to ask questions. He'll come in guns blazing."

"Great!" General Spears leaned back in his seat. "A captain who won't listen and an admiral who likes to shoot things. Humanity is going to make a lovely first impression. Alright, it's too late to fix that. General Perez, what is the situation on Shanxi. If things go wrong, can the planet hold against an attack?"

Perez, a short, stocky man in his early fifties shrugged. "The problem is, that Shanxi is such a new colony, so it has a lot of uninhabited land. There are less than ten million people and they are mostly concentrated in one place. Most of the planetary surface is empty, or has just a few small settlements. That gives an invader plenty of landing opportunities. General Williams has one brigade group of colonial marines down there. Approximately 4000 man infantry with their support elements: light armour, artillery, and a squadron of Super-Cheyennes to provide limited air mobility and close air support. Nominally, he also commands two brigades worth of local militia, but they don't count for much. Some local boys and girls looking to play soldiers with a smattering of veterans to give them some backbone. No heavy weapons, and no real logistics, so they cannot be moved around quickly. All in all, it is enough to cover the capital, but not much more than that. If someone wants to invade, they can easily find an undefended spot and once they are on the ground Williams cannot move against them without leaving vital areas undefended. As to defence in space, that is the navy's job."

"Admiral Drescher?"

"In-system naval presence is limited too, general. With van Buren and four of his ships gone, we have only two destroyers left to provide ship-to-ship capability. There are two RDVs in system and a few frigates, but none of them will contribute much to a space battle."

"What about planetary defences?"

"Shanxi has a single space station in orbit, general. Right now it has two squadrons of fighters embarked, one of SA-23Es for space superiority and one of F-302s for strike duties. That's all we have in system."

"What, no ASAT missiles?"

Drescher shook her head. "We have the missiles, but only for deployment on the destroyers. We never got the budget for planetary launchers. Not as long as we maintained a destroyer squadron in system."

"A destroyer squadron of which only two will be left once van Buren leaves the system. Wonderful!" Spears took a deep breath to calm himself. This was not a good time for a rant against pacifist politicians, penny-pinching bureaucrats , or overly enthusiastic admirals. "It is what it is. In any case, van Buren may be a cowboy, but he has a good point about the need for an increased presence at Shanxi. The Shanxi relay gives anyone who holds it a straight shot at Arcturus as well as several of our mining colonies. If we lose it, the strategic situation goes straight to hell. Even if these aliens aren't spoiling for a fight, we cannot afford to have it look like an inviting target. No matter how this works out, it looks like Shanxi is going to be our new border with these people, at least for the foreseeable future. That means that we have to reinforce it in a hurry. So, what can we send there right away?"

There was a moment of silence.

"It depends, general," Admiral Drescher finally said. "I'm afraid the cupboard is pretty empty these days. Second fleet is at about half its official strength. The rest of my ships are in reserve and it will take days, perhaps even weeks, to activate those ships and gather the crews. If I deploy to Shanxi, I'll have to take everything available, just to screen my carriers. That would leave Arcturus dangerously exposed. Your nearest source for reinforcements would be First Fleet; and they'd take three days to get here."

Spears snorted. "The Assembly would never let them leave earth orbit anyway. No, that's not an option. We have to keep your carriers here, until we can mobilize the reserve. So, given those conditions, what can you spare?"

"I can send more light units to shore up our naval presence, but they would be frigates and RDVs. I have only one destroyer squadron on active duty and I need to keep it as a screening force. As for deploying more marines, we have the lift capacity, but I'm not sure-"

"There is no point in deploying more troops, unless we have a reasonable chance of keeping a foothold in Shanxi space," General Perez interrupted. "That would only increase the number of people cut off from support if the navy has to pull out."

"I agree," Spears said. "Still, it's always good to be prepared. "What do you have available?"

"Well, I have a brigade group of marines here at Arcturus. They're supposed to be our quick reaction force, so they're ready to go at a moment's notice. There are two more brigades scattered over nearby colonies. Those can be concentrated here and redeployed within two weeks. Anything more will take at least a month."

Spears seemed lost in thought for a moment, then he said, "Alright, we'll have to work with what we have, at least for the moment. So, we're going to do three things. First of all, admiral Drescher, I want you to send as many light units to Shanxi as you can spare. Doesn't matter what kind they are. At the very least, they'll give van Buren a proper scouting force. We'll keep the RDVs at Shanxi to maintain at least the pretence of a naval force. The frigates will move out into the surrounding systems. I want to know where these aliens came from. If they're from the other side of the dormant relay, fine, that'll simplify things, but if they have some sort of base anywhere nearby, I want to know about it. I also want you to send Shanxi as many fighters as we can spare from Arcturus. At the very least bring the orbital station up to full strength. Is that doable within a reasonable time?"

Admiral Drescher nodded. "I can send several frigates right away. The RDVs will follow within two days. The fighters will take longer, because we have to redeploy their support personnel as well, but that is something we've practised a lot. If necessary I can use my carriers to ferry them. They'll be fully operational in Shanxi within a week."

"Good. Second point: the marines. General Perez, I want those two brigades of yours concentrated at Arcturus as soon as possible; and I want the navy to have the necessary tonnage ready to deploy them to Shanxi, if necessary as a combat drop. Start looking into additional ground forces and their support groups as well." Spears looked at his fellow officers. "That brings me to point three. My position allows me some leeway for unilateral action and I think it's time that I put it to use. As of now, I'm declaring a local state of emergency. That gives me the authority to activate all reserve forces at Arcturus. I'll depart for Earth on the first courier ship I can get my hands on to brief the Assembly. While I'm gone, you two will reactivate as much of our local forces as you can. That includes calling up reservists to fill in personnel gaps. However, do not send anything to Shanxi, other than the ships we just discussed. I would prefer to have the official approval of the Assembly before we make such a move. If the aliens have peaceful intentions, those measures should suffice. If not... well, then we're going to need a bigger hammer, so I want you to coordinate with headquarters staff to make ready for a full mobilization. I cannot order that without government approval, but I want to be able to implement the mobilization plan on a moment's notice if it becomes necessary."

He looked at his fellow officers.

"Don't get me wrong people, I'm not looking for a war. But if we're going to have a war, we're going to make damn sure, that we'll be the ones to come out on top."

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**Next time: the first battle at Relay 314**

**The fighters are a mixed batch. The SA-23 Starfury is from Babylon 5. It's a very sensible design for a space-based fighter. The F-302 I borrowed from Stargate SG1. I intend it as a multi-role fighter with atmospheric capability. I think both have a look that fits the alien universe better than the ME style human fighters**

**The term ASAT missiles for anti-ship missiles comes from the Alien franchise. They were part of the armament of the Sulaco. The name is a bit weird, because they're not actually for anti-satelite duties but I decided to keep it, though as will be seen in the next chapter, my ASAT missiles will carry a different warhead, after all it's 50 years later.**

**I'm borrowing people's names from both franchises. Drescher is, of course, a canon ME character. Perez and Spears are both Alien characters. Perez was the name of the general in Alien Resurrection. General Spears was a character in Steve Perry's book Nightmare Asylum. My version won't have the same insanity, though some of his messiah complex may eventually appear.**


	5. The battle for Relay 314, part 1

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**USM Auriga**

The concentrated fire of the four alien ships slammed into Auriga. Her shields, never designed to withstand this kind of onslaught, collapsed, and the next salvo impacted directly on her hull. However, it seemed that captain Jankowski's last manoeuvre was paying off. The sloped armour on her bow deflected most of the energy of the incoming rounds away from the ship and, though several of her ablative arnour plates were ripped away, none of the mass accelerator slugs penetrated the hull.

"Activate jammers! Maximum acceleration on all engines, turn thirty degrees to port and thirty degrees down angle!" Captain Jankoski shouted. "All ships, weapons free and fire at will."

Auriga swung through her turn and began to accelerate downward and away from the system's ecliptic. A new salvo came roaring in, but the sudden turn had taken the alien gunners off guard and half the salvo missed. The other two rounds slammed into her hull, but again failed to penetrate.  
Return fire from all three ships reached out toward the alien formation and Jankowski swore. The targeting systems were still rotating targets between the alien ships as he had originally ordered, scattering the mass accelerator slugs over several targets.

"Signal our escorts: Concentrate fire on my target."

Precious second were wasted before the targeting systems made the adjustment, then a new salvo roared away, scoring multiple hits on one of the alien vessels.

"Captain, hostile fighters moving in."

On his tactical display Jankoswki watched as the fighter wings that had so far remained between him and the dormant relay started to move. They accelerated rapidly, leaving the frigate that they had accompanied behind. He hesitated a moment. This battle was clearly unwinnable. Escape was the only option and that meant fighting his way out of the trap, but right now there were just too many enemies.

"Signal the escorts to form up on our flank and match speed. Use all available EW on enemy cruisers. We'll let our laser defences deal with the fighters."

He took a deep breath. "Send an FTL message from Auriga to fleet comand Shanxi: 'We are under attack. I repeat, we are under attack.'"

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Livestian watched as salvo after salvo struck home. The shields on the dreadnought collapsed quickly, earlier than expected, but the armour was a different story and the turian captain felt a moment of despair as he realized that his gamble had failed. There was simply no way for his cruisers to destroy the behemoth quickly enough to stop it from getting at least a few salvoes off. However, the return fire was surprisingly light. Rapid fire of multiple mass accelerators erupted from all three ships, hitting several of his cruisers, but none of them sufficiently to penetrate the shields.

The alien fire increased in effectiveness as the aliens shifted their attention to concentrate on a single target and Livestian saw debris spin away as mass accelerator slugs tore into the hull of Palaven's Glory. Fortunately, the damage seemed minor and the cruiser continued pouring fire into the alien dreadnought that was now accelerating away, clearly trying to escape, rather than fight. _Escape?_ Livestian checked his tactical data.

"Adjust fire! Engage the cruisers first." Incredible as it seemed, the dreadnought's fire was not much heavier than that of either of the two cruisers and he could destroy those a lot faster. Once he had dealt with them, he would be able to take his time with the larger vessel, whatever it was.

Turian fighters swept in, trying to disable the enemy vessels by destroying sensors and engines, but whatever they might lack in offensive weaponry, the aliens' defensive armament was excellent. Two, three fighters exploded under concentrated fire of the GARDIAN lasers. As the fighters broke away, Livestian's cruisers, as wel as his one remaining frigate that had now reached engagement range, resumed firing, this time concentrating on the two enemy cruisers.  
Initially the results were disappointing. Enemy jamming systems were filling space with electronic noise and more sophisticated electronic warfare systems were trying to infiltrate his targeting computers. The accuracy of the turian targeting systems was severely degraded and several salvoes went wide, aimed at what appeared to be sensor ghosts. The turian crews tried to respond in kind, but the shear volume of electronic noise that the aliens ships pumped out was difficult to overcome and Livestian ordered his people to cease their efforts and concentrate on defending their own systems, rather than attacking.

With their own systems shielded from enemy interference, the accuracy of the turian gunners increased steadily. As with their larger companion, the armour of the two alien cruisers appeared to be much stronger than their shields. Still, it could not withstand this sort of concentrated fire indefinitely. As Livestian watched, the tactical readouts registered multiple hits penetrating the alien hulls. Return fire was still coming in and several of the turian ships had been struck, but so far their armour was holding.

Suddenly a cheer went up among Primarch Pride's bridge crew. A single glance at the tactical display show Livestian the cause: One of the alien cruisers was falling out of formation, its acceleration severely reduced.

**USM Auriga**

Jankowski cursed as he saw the data from the RDVs. Galipoli in particular was absorbing more damage than she had ever been designed to take. Now at least one of her engine pods had failed completely and she was slowing down. Bomarsund was in better shape, but with the amount of fire she was taking that wouldn't last long. As he watched, Galipoli suddenly slowed down, more than her lost thruster warranted. the remaining engine pods flared and the RDV shifted in a sharp turn, reversing her heading.

"Sakai, what the hell are you doing?" Jankowski yelled through the command circuit. No answer came and for a moment Jankowski wondered if captain Sakai would simply ignore him. The her voice came over the circuit.

"We're not going to make it, captain. My ship's lost one engine and a second is failing. We have multiple hull breaches already and there is no way to tell how long she will hold together. There is no time to make repairs, and you cannot afford to slow down. Get out of the system. We'll hold them off."

"Damn you, Sakai. Get-"

The connection with Galipoli was closed from the other end.

"Captain! Look at Bomarsund," one of the sensor techs said. Under Jankowski's disbelieving gaze, the icon representing Bormasund decelerated sharply as the ship joined its fellow RDV.

"Incoming signal from Bomarsund."

Commander Dupont's voice was remarkable calm, considering the circumstances. "Captain Sakai is right, captain. None of us are going to make it out, unless someone delays those aliens. Get Auriga out, captain. Warn the fleet."

"Dupont, I'm ordering you to -"

"And if we survive this, you can have me court-marshalled, captain." A hint of laughter appeared in her voice. "It would be worth it, if it means I get to live through this."

The signal stopped and Jankowski watched with burning eyes as the two RDVs turned to face the enemy.

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Livestian saw the two ships manoeuvre and understood their intent. Although both were already damaged, it would take him time to finish them off completely and in the mean time their larger companion would be able to open the distance. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it. While he had a considerable advantage in firepower it was not so large that he could afford to divide his cruisers. No matter where he chose to concentrate his fire he would have to accept the possibility that at least one of the alien vessels would be able to escape the system.

"Tell the fighters to stay with the larger ship. All others slow down to match speed with the cruiser." He looked at the damage estimates for the two aliens ships. "Have all ships concentrate fire on the most damaged vessel. We'll finish that one off, then deal with the other."

Mass accelerator fire flashed back and forth between the two formations. The distance was closing rapidly and the alien fire was becoming more effective as they scored hit after hit on Palaven's Glory. The alien's had clearly identified her as the most damaged of the turian crusiers and were concentrating their fire where it would be the most effective. Longer ranged salvoes were still coming in from the larger ship, but their accuracy was diminishing as the range increased.  
Even though the individual rounds were relatively small, the weight of concentrating fire began to tell. A first hull-breach appeared on Palaven's Glory, then a second, and Livestian mentally cringed as he thought of the loss of life among its crew.

"Captain!" Lieutenant Tirius sounded exulted. "Enemy power readings are fluctuating. I think we've damaged its eezo core. Its about to-"

Before she could finish her sentence, one of the alien vessel disappeared in an eye-searing flash.

**USM Bomarsund**

Commander Dupont's face went white as Gallipoli vanished in a massive explosion. She hadn't had time to get to know captain Sakai, or any of his officers well, but still... She made herself ignore the pain. So far her own ship had escaped the brunt of the alien fire, but that was clearly about to change. As the first salvoes came roaring in, she weighed her chances.

"Set up all weapons to fire on automated controls. Same target, rapid fire. Get all non-essential personnel to the lifepods."

"Madam?" her first officer looked confused.

"We're not going to make it, lieutenant. I don't know how these things treat prisoners, but it cannot be much worse than the vacuum of space. Now do as I say."

The alien fire was both devastating and highly accurate. WIth only one ship pumping out noise the jamming and electronic warfare was severely reduced in effectiveness and it showed. Bomarsund took hit after hit, her shields had long failed and the ablative armour plates were being rapidly stripped from her hull, leaving the ship more vulnerable to each following salvo.  
Her own mass accelerators fired back defiantly and commander Dupont watched with a sense of satisfaction as one of the alien ships, already damaged by earlier hits, suddenly lurched out of formation as part of her propulsion system failed. Unfortunately, the revenge was short-lived. Several rounds slammed into Bomarsund's hull, which no longer had the means to stop them. Alarms went off all over the ship as multiple compartments suddenly became open to vacuum. Before anyone on the bridge could even begin to deal with the fresh damage a panicked voice sounded over the intercom.

"Power fluctuations in engineering! We're trying to-"

Commander Dupont felt a massive shock, then everything went dark.

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Livestian hesitated as he looked at his displays. The remains of the second alien vessel were slowly drifting away. Unlike its companion the explosion had been relatively small. rather than simply vanish the ship had been torn in half, debris spinning away in all directions. Still, its destruction ha come at a cost. Palaven's Glory was out of the fight, at least for the moment. That left him with three cruisers and a frigate plus his remaining fighters to try to bring down the bigger ship that was still accelerating away. If he wanted to make the effort. _You have achieved what you wanted, _a small voice inside him seemed to say. _They won't be opening the relay. _It was a tempting thought. He could simply break off the engagement now and watch as the one remaining ship departed. That was the easy way, the safe way. But it wasn't the turian way. Turians fought a battle to the finish, or they didn't fight at all. Enganging an enemy and then letting that enemy get away was just an open invitation for him to come back with reinforcements. _Besides, what are these aliens going to tell their people when they get home?_ a new voice whispered. _You are the one that fired first, no matter what they intended. They'll come looking for revenge. Better to stop them now and control when and where the rest of their people learn about it. That way the hierarchy and the council will have time to prepare, send diplomats.  
_He straightened his spine**.**

"Lay in a pursuit course, best speed. All ships, target the remaining alien vessel."

**USM Auriga**

One of the alien ships had taken significant damage and seemed to be out of the fight. The others were moving in pursuit but the aliens had lost precious time in dealing with Auriga's escorts and they were falling behind. In time their superior acceleration would allow them to catch up, but at least for the moment she was pulling away from her enemies. With the increased range their accuracy was suffering as well. The fighters had carried out several attacks, taking out one of her two mass accelerator turrets, but they had paid a heavy prize for it and their weapons lacked the ability to penetrate the main hull. Meanwhile Auriga's laser defences had accounted for another four fighters and the remainder were clearly reluctant to make another firing pass.

It was too good to last. With no further targets the three functional alien destroyers and the frigate could combine their efforts and despite the range their accuracy started to improve again. Aboard the battered research ship electronic warfare specialists did what they could to interfere with the alien targeting systems, but there were simply too many enemies and the increasing amount of damage was taking its toll on their systems as well. Despite their best efforts the frequency of the hits increased once more. Salvo after salvo slammed into Auriga, but still her heavily armoured hull, designed for a fleet carrier rather than a science vessel, held together and her speed was increasing steadily. A direct hit from one of the alien warships took out her last remaining mass accelerator, robbing her of even the token the ability to return fire. The fighters bore in again, this time concentrating on her propulsion, but the engine pods, like the hull, had been designed to take an enormous amount of punishment before failing and yet another alien fighter was wiped out by one of the few remaining laser guns.  
On the bridge captain Jankowski's eyes were glued to the count down that showed him the remaining time till FTL speed.

"Hull breach, sector 28!"

"Seal of the area."

"Sir, there are still people trapped ins-"

"Seal it off!" Jankowski snarled. "Or do you want to lose the whole ship?"

Auriga charged onward in what seemed to be the centre of a hurricane of hostile fire. She shook as more mass accelerator slugs tore into her hull, which was finally beginning to give way. Most of her ablative armour was long gone and now even the primary hull was being ripped open. A second hull breach appeared, then a third. Then...

"Captain! Ready for FTL speed."

"Get us out of here!"

With a lurch that said nothing good about the condition of either her engines, or her inertial damping systems, USM Auriga entered FTL and departed the system.

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Livestian watched as the alien vessel, by now more wreck than ship, disappeared in FTL. _Two enemy vessels destroyed and one driven off with heavy damage. It's not perfect, but still a victory by any standard, so why don't I feel good. about it?_ He looked at his tactical display. No furher threats were visible, just the remnants of the battle.

"Lieutenant Tirius, what's the status of the squadron?"

"Palaven's Glory has taken serious damage, captain. Half her weapons are off line and she's been reduced to a about sixty percent of maximum acceleration. We've also lost eight of our fighters. Damage to the rest of the squadron is minor at most." She seemed uncertain as to whether she should be jubilant or subdued. Levestain could understand that. The results of the batte had been mixed. They had lost nearly a third of their fighter strength and Palaven's Glory had taken severe enough damage that it would need to visit a dock before it would be combat capable again. On the other hand, the damage to his remaining ships was minor. That gave them some flexibility in case the aliens counter-attacked.

"Signal the squadron. I want this system swept from one end to another. They should pick up anything they can find: livepods, wreckage, everything! We need to find out who these people are, where they came from, what their capabilities are..."

"Captain, shouldn't we send a report to high command as soon as possible?"

"And we will, lieutenant, as soon as we know what to report. For that, we need to recover as much as we can. In the mean time, you and I are going to study the data from the battle. There's a lot here that doesn't make sense. We need information, and quickly. Assuming that that ship makes it home, the aliens will come looking for us and I don't think they will be in a very good mood. The high command needs information, quickly and we're going to make sure they get it.

* * *

**USM Osawa, en route to LV-758**

Rear-admiral van Buren was not a happy man. He had departed from Shanxi with his four available destroyers within an hour of receiving captain Jankowski's initial message, but it would take them nearly two days to reach their destination. In the mean time, the news was not good. A last message from USM Auriga, intercepted after they had left Shanxi, had informed him that the aliens were definitely hostile. After that, there had been only silence. The four ships were straining their engines to the maximum to reach LV-758 as quickly as possible, but it would not be enough. The battle would be over, long before they could come to Jankowski's aid. _Two fancy troop transports and an oversized research ship against four destroyers and a frigate!_ _Karel Doorman had better odds in the Java Sea. I guess we'll finally see if that blowhard Jankowski is as good as he thinks he is. _Van Buren smiled without humour. He had never been impressed with the likes of Jankowski. That kind talked a good fight, especially when it came to impressing politicians, but when it came to actual fighting... No, this battle could only end one way and there was nothing he could do to change it. Still, if these aliens decided to stick around after their inevitable victory, they would get a nasty surprise when van Buren reached the system. He might not be able to save anybody, he could sure as hell avenge them.

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**A/N **

**Next chapter, round two: admiral van Buren gets to fulfil his lifelong ambition: using his destroyers to blow shit up.**

**Eipok:**** I kept Arcturus station primarily because it is ME canon, but I put the military at Arcturus and civilian government on earth. Note that in this universe they didn't actually move the HQ away from earth, because USM headquarters was never there to begin with. As to vulnerability, it has both good and bad points. You can park a station far away from all civilian traffic and put a huge no-fly zone around it. That will allow you to just shoot anyone who approaches without authorization. You cannot do that if you put the HQ on an inhabited planet with lots of civilian traffic. Additional advantages: It's a fully controlled environment, therefore difficult to infiltrate for spies. Also, it's easy to evacuate, because you don't need to climb out of a gravity well, and, finally, if it gets attacked you are far away from any civilian targets, so it limits the collateral damage.  
******Of course a single attack can have massive consequences, but that is the problem with any centralized command structure. Putting the HQ on a planet doesn't necessarily help, because a ship slamming into it is still deadly (See the end scene of Alien Resurrection). **The local relay makes it vulnerable to deep strikes, but that's the nature of the relay system. I suppose you could put the HQ in a system without a relay, but that brings problems for logistics and communications. In this particular situation it's a mess, because of the direct connection to Shanxi. They suddenly have an enemy right in their backyard. Bad luck for them, but good for me, because it justifies the increased tension that makes the whole thing escalate.**


	6. Intermezzo

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Sorry, I know I promised another battle, but the chapter got too long compared to the others, so I decided to split it in two. Next phase of the battle is on the way.**

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**July 18, 2228, human reckoning**

**USM Osawa, just outside of system LV-758**

Eager though he was to engage the alien ships, rear-admiral van Buren had not abandoned all caution. Rather than charging in blind, he would make sure he had the latest available information before deciding on a battle plan. The four destroyers had come out of FTL speed well outside the limits of system LV-758, where they could be reasonably sure that their FTL transit would remain undetected. That had been nearly twenty-four hours ago. Since then they had sent their recon drones into the system at high speed. Using passive sensors only the small craft had investigated the situation. The news was was grim indeed. So far the reconnaissance drones had found the wreckage of one of the RDVs, most likely Bomarsund, and no sign of the other two vessels. If any of his officers had hoped that this would cause the admiral to reconsider they were sorely disappointed when he called his senior officers to a video conference. If anything, it had only hardened van Buren's resolve.

"We have detected signs of at least four alien vessels, not including smallcraft." Captain Shen, the admiral's chief of staff was giving a general briefing. "That is one vessel less than reported in captain Jankowski's original message, perhaps two, depending on whether the second frigate remained in the system."

"Looks like he got one of the bastards," someone remarked.

"That is possible, but we cannot overlook the possibility that the remaining ship or ships are still hiding somewhere in the system. In any case, we currently have tentative identifications on three destroyer-sized ships and a frigate. They also seem to have at least some fighter-sized craft with them. The latter is potentially worrisome, because we have not seen any sign of a mothership. Either those cruisers are actually hybrid cruiser-carriers, or there is at least one other ship around here somewhere. The ships are currently clustered around what's left of the RDV. From the looks of it, they're using shuttlecraft to scour the wreckage."

"Bunch of vultures," van Buren muttered. "Alright, that's enough, Shen. Listen up, everyone. We all knew that we would be coming too late to come to captain Jankowski's rescue and that's exactly what we have found. Bomarsund seems to be gone and Auriga and Gallipoli have either escaped from the system, or they were destroyed completely. Either way, there is nothing we can do to change that. Still, it looks like we're not too late to make our own contribution to the battle and we're going to make sure that it's a memorable contribution.

"Admiral..." one of the officers spoke up, possibly with more courage than sense for self-preservation. "Are we sure that we want to do this? I mean, we don't actually know what happened, so shouldn't we at least try to establish communications before we attack?"

For a moment there was silence and the other officers held their breath, waiting for an explosion.

"Communications, captain Santana?" van Buren's voice was deceptively mild. "Are you suggesting that we just waltz into the system like a bunch of colonists walking into a xenomorph's hive. While we're at it, maybe we should paint giant bull's eyes on our ships to make it easier for these freaks to take a shot at another human squadron. Is that what you suggest?"

"No sir, but-"

"Good, because I'd hate to think that one of my ship commanders was an idiot. We already know what happens when you try to communicate with them. Presumably, that's what Jankowski tried and look where it got him. We may not know exactly what happened, but we do know that they have destroyed at least one, possibly three, of our ships. Ladies and gentlemen, that is NOT acceptable, and we are going to make damn sure that they get that message loud and clear. Then, and only then will we talk to them, if we're in the mood and if there are any of them left. Does anybody have a problem with that?"

There were no further comments.

"Good. Then let's get to business. I want all ships ready for a short hop. We'll come out of FTL as close to the enemy as a we can. That way, even if there are other vessels hiding somewhere in the neighbourhood we'll be able to deal with the ones we know of before the others can interfere. Assuming that we are successful in either destroying the enemy ships or expelling them from the system, we will then remain there until further notice. Remember, we don't know where they came from. If this species originates from the other side of the mass relay we will be in a perfect position to block any further incursions into local space. If not, well then we'll just have to find their homeworld. Who knows? We might even pay them a visit some day."

* * *

**HNV Primarch's Pride, System LV-758**

It had been almost three days since the battle and Livestian had still not managed to come to terms with it. The 24th recon squadron had scoured the entire system in an attempt to gather as much information as possible. This had included picking up a number of lifepods from the destroyed alien vessels. Initially, he had had little hope of finding any survivors. Both ships had exploded, one of them with such force that it was hard to find any wreckage at all. However, a surprising number of lifepods had been found from the second ship, including over forty survivors. Opening the lifepods had led to a new shock. For one terrible moment, Livestian had thought that he had somehow attacked asari vessels. Fortunately, that turned out not to be the case. A simple medical test had shown that these creatures, despite the superficial similarity in body shape and facial structure, actually had nothing in common with asari. Well, almost nothing. Unfortunately, the one thing they had in common was also a major problem: Like asari, and most sentient races for that matter, the aliens had a biology based on levo-chiral amino acids, which meant that they could not ingest turian food. At least that was not something Livestian was willing to put to the test anytime soon. The situation was bad enough already, even without accusations of prisoner abuse. Of course, that left him with the serious problem of how to feed them. Turian ships carried a limited supply of levo-food as a precaution, but not enough to feed a large group of people for any length of time.  
In the end, he had decided to dispatch Palaven's Glory, the most damaged of his cruisers to transport the prisoners to the nearest fleet depot. It solved two problems at once, for the cruiser had sustained sufficient damage that it would be more of a liability than a help if any more of the aliens showed up. With some luck, the prisoners might even be able to help set up some form of communications, though so far they had not been cooperative.  
The remaining ships had started to collect what they could of the alien equipment that was now floating around. It was a risk because there was no way to tell if, or when, the aliens would come back, but Livestian had judged that the opportunity to acquire more information on these people was simply too important to pass up. Meanwhile, Livestian had set himself another task: to go over the records of the battle to try to understand what had happened. The results were not encouraging. Many of the characteristics of the alien ships made no sense whatsoever, but the hard data on their performance pointed toward an unpleasant conclusion.

"I was wrong, lieutenant," Livestian said to his first officer, with whom he was discussing his final conclusions. "They had no spinal mass accelerators; none of them. I don't know why they turned toward us, but it was not to open fire."

"Captain, there is no way to know that for sure. We could not take the risk. Not with a dread-"

"It wasn't a dreadnought!" Livestian shouted. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. This wasn't lieutenant Tirius fault.  
"It wasn't a dreadnought," he repeated more calmly. "Take a look at the performance data. It didn't have any more offensive firepower than those cruisers; and they were already underpowered for their size."

"Perhaps..." Lieutenant Tirius sounded hesitant as she tried to come up with an explanation. "Perhaps it's a matter of technology. There may be some practical limit to the size and power of their weapons."

"No, if they couldn't build more powerful weapons, they would either build smaller ships or increase the number of weapons per ship. There is no way, that ship was meant to be a weapon platform."

"But then, what was it? From the look of these data, it had the size and armour of a dreadnought, the shields of a cruiser and the armament of a frigate. What could possibly warrant such a combination?"

"I don't know lieutenant. But whatever it was, it was not designed for combat and that means that they probably didn't intend to attack us either."

"I suppose so. But, captain, like I said, you had no way of knowing that at the time."

"That's not the point, lieutenant. Legally, we're in the clear. The moment they tried to infiltrate our computersystems, we had a right to engage them. For that matter, it could even be argued that we had that right the moment they signaled the mass relay. But this is not about legally justifying what we did. It's about long-term consequences. If that ship, whatever it was, does not fall apart on the way home, they will tell their people that they have been attacked. That is not a good beginning of a first contact. At the very least they will mobilise ships and establish a military presence in this area, which could easily lead to further violence. At worse, they will launch an attack on citadel space.

"If they do, we'll beat them, captain. They cannot be all that numerous, or we would have encountered them before, and their technology is less advanced than our own. Those mass accelerators were even weaker than our broadside armament."

"And yet they were strong enough to cripple Palavan's Glory. Be careful not to make too many assumptions, lieutenant. So far we've seen examples of two of their ship types and neither seems to make much sense as design. Clearly, we're missing something. Nobody builds inefficient ships just for fun, so they must serve a purpose that we don't understand yet. Besides, even if you're right and we do defeat them in the end, what would be the cost? I'm not even talking about loss of life, just the money. The hierarchy's finances are already stretched to the limit with the current naval budget. If the war leaves us weakened, we might not be able to replace our losses. Then what? Our fleet guarantees the safety of citadel space. If we cannot fulfil that task-"

"Then let the other races take up some of the slack! Why should we pay for their safety?"

His words had clearly touched a nerve, for he could almost feel the lieutenant's anger reach boiling point. Though shortsighted, it was not an uncommon attitude these days. The hierarchy's economy was stretched thin to maintain the strength of its fleets, while in the meantime the other council races benefited from a peace dividend, secure in the knowledge that the turians were maintaining order. It was the price the turians had to pay for the shortsightedness of their ancestors. Riding high after their victory over the Krogan and eager to obtain a council seat, they had accepted, even insisted, on the role of galaxy-wide protectors, never realising the long term effects it would have. The reality had been a shock, even though it had been a while before people felt it and even now most turians were not fully aware of the implications. For the dubious pleasure of being able to push around non-council races like the elcor and the hanar, the turians had committed themselves to a huge military budget, which their economy, even supported by the Vol Protectorate, had great difficulties to maintain. By now it was too late. Even if their pride would accept admitting their inability to fulfill heir duties... Livestian's mandible flared in dismay at the potential consequences.

"Try to think that through before you speak, lieutenant," he said sharply. "If we fail to maintain order, the treaty of Farinxen will come up for revision. The batarians would be the first to insist that they needed additional dreadnoughts to 'take up the slack' as you put it. What happens then? If they start building more dreadnoughts, we'll have no choice but to keep pace, even if we have a head start. If you think the current situation is bad, wait until we have to compete in an arms race. No, that is not an option." He shook his head. "Anyway, we're getting away from the main issue. The fact is that we can ill afford another war right now. Especially one that may drag out over time and in the end may leave us patrolling yet another demilitarised zone, even if we are victorious. We have to find a way to end this quickly."

Even as he spoke, an alarm sounded from the bridge.

"Captain, we have an FTL transit. Four ships. They are closing fast on our position."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Concerning the spacestation vs. planet base discussion:  
It actually isn't entirely clear how deep a ME style ships can go into a star system without coming out of FTL. According to background info it should be OK to go all the way to the planet, but In ME3 the reapers can chase Normandy around a system because you always have to be at the edge of the system to go to FTL. In any case, a relativistic impact of a ship-sized object will always be lethal. Fun fact: a 10,000 ton ship, impacting at one third of the speed of light, has the same kinetic energy as a 2 km solid iron asteroid at typical meteorite impact velocities. The resulting crater is estimated to be about one kilometre deep in solid rock according to an online impact calculator. I know this is a very rough estimate, because a smaller, faster, object would have different impact characteristics, but it gives an idea of what would happen. Underground shelters won't cut it against something like this. Even if you dig deep enough to stay below the impact crater, your shelter will collapse; and even if you can avoid that, you'll be buried alive with no way to get out.**


	7. The battle for Relay 314, part 2

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**July 18, 2228, human reckoning**

**HNV Primarch's Pride, LV-758**

"Are they the same design?"

"No captain, not exactly, but there are similarities," Lieutenant Tirius studied her display. "Utilitarian, no effort at aesthetics, I would say they come from the same source."

"I was afraid of this. Either they have a base nearby, or these ships were already underway before the battle. I suppose it doesn't really matter right now. They must have spotted the wreckage, so they know at least some of their people were killed." Livestian though for a moment. The odds were three against four; three-and-a-half against four, if he committed Talon's Claw, his remaining frigate. Not great odds, especially with his fighter strength severely reduced, but not insurmountable either. The last group of ships they had encountered had been underpowered for their size and had not carried any fighters. If these ships were similarly handicapped, he could still win.

"No matter what happens, we must make sure that word gets back to Palaven. Can we avoid a battle?"

"Lieutenant Tirius looked at the numbers. "Unlikely, sir. They are coming in at high speed and will almost certainly overtake use before we can reach FTL, especially if we wait until our shuttles are docked, and we'll be in the worst possible position: with the enemy directly behind us."

"I'm not leaving anyone behind." Livestian came to a decision. "Bring all small craft back on board, including the fighter patrol, and turn directly toward the aliens. We will wait until everyone's been recovered, then fight our way out of the system. Tell Claw to stay clear of the battle. One frigate is not going to make too much of a difference and she must be able to get the news out if we are overwhelmed."

**USM Osawa**

In Osawa's combat operations centre admiral van Buren and his chief of staff waited as the first reports came in.

"Four ships confirmed, admiral. Looks like three destroyers and a frigate."

Van Buren looked at the plot. The three destroyer-sized ships were forming op in a vertical triangle, facing his ships, while a swarm of small craft converged on them for recovery. The frigate was moving away from them, though at a relatively low speed. "Send out a new flight of drones and scan the rest of the system. If there are any more ships I want to know it the moment they show themselves."

"Admiral, we're being hailed, or at least they are sending us something. Should we respond?"

van Buren snorted. "Now they want to talk? I don't think so. I'm not going to sit still here and allow them time to come up with a battle plan. Captain Shen, you may proceed."

"Yes sir." Shen looked at his screen. The range was too long for effective mass accelerator fire. Fortunately, the USM had provided its navy with an alternative method of engagement. "Send signal: USM Osawa to all ships. Weapons free, proceed as planned."

On the bottom of the hull of each destroyer, massive doors opened, exposing the deadly cargo within to open space. A brief firing of thrusters and four missiles were expelled from each ship. Once clear of their mother ships their primary drives ignited, accelerating them toward their targets, only to burn out within seconds. Once the first stage drives burned out they separated from the missiles, which continued on the path toward their targets. Behind them, the destroyers continued on their own attack vectors.

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

"Captain, there is no response. I don't think they're here to talk, even if they could understand us."

"Multiple launches!"

"Fighters?" So far the aliens had not shown any such craft but perhaps this new ship-type carried them. In that case, he might have to redeploy his own fighters and face the possibility that he would have to leave them behind when jumping to FTL.

"No captain, they look more like missiles, big ones." The sensor specialist cursed. "We've lost them, sir. They disappeared off the scanners."

Livestian hesitated. Nobody used missiles in ship-to-ship combat these days. GARDIAN laser defences were simply too effective, besides the missiles would be unable to penetrate the shields. While a large missile with a sufficiently powerful warhead could, in theory, still be deadly, naval architects were in agreement that designing and building such weapons was a waste of resources, not to mention that incorporating them in a ship would take up too much internal space, which could be used more effectively. _But they don't seem to have fighters! _The thought suddenly occurred to him. If a cruiser-sized ship carried no fighters, it would save a lot of internal space, which could be used for other purposes.

"Engage the missiles as soon as you can re-acquire them. Lieutenant Tirius?"

"Yes, captain."

"We'll proceed on the assumption that these ships don't carry fighters. Adjust firing patterns accordingly and utilize all GARDIAN systems for missile defence."

**-o-o-o-**

Sixteen huge missiles sped towards their targets. Their initial drives had burned out within seconds of launch. Now they would coast ballistically until they reached engagement range. ASAT missiles had a history that dated back to the early days of space exploration. For most of humanity's expansion in space they had been the primary weapon of all human warships. Starting as simple guided missiles they had evolved into something more: effectively they had become small, unmanned, ships. Protected by stealth systems and guided by the latest in both passive and active sensors they coud be relied upon to bring a deadly payload to their target through almost any kind of active, or passive, defence. However, their edge had steadily decreased as defensive laser systems improved, forcing them to detonate further from their targets or risk destruction. Then had come the discovery of element zero and with it the introduction of effective energy shields. Although the introduction of a tiny element zero core could greatly increase their acceleration, it had seemed as though the days of the ASAT missiles were over. Unable to penetrate a shield without breaking up, and with the effectiveness of their warheads severely reduced if they detonated outside the shields, they had been forced to yield their function of primary anti-ship weapon to the mass accelerators. Still, too much time, money, and effort had been spent on their design and development to simply throw them out. The navy had sought a new function for them and found one, but it had never been tested in actual combat, until now.

On board the missiles passive sensors scanned the space ahead of them, tracking the targets and measuring the likelihood of detection. This was arguably the most crucial function of the onboard computers. Coasting along at constant velocity, and with all active transmissions shut down, the ASAT missiles were fiendishly hard to detect, but at the same time, if they were detected, they would be sitting ducks for any active defence mechanism. Therefore, the computer had to estimate when the target was most likely to reacquire the missiles. At that moment, stealth mode would have to be dropped and the missiles would go active.

The computers didn't get it quite right. Suddenly, multiple active emitters locked on to several of the missiles and, before they could respond, laser beams shot out of the target ships. They missed, adjusted their aim, and fired again. Three out of the sixteen missiles vanished, but even in their deaths, they fulfilled a final function, for the remaining thirteen were instantly made aware that concealment had been lost and dropped all pretence at stealth. Secondary stage thrusters flared up, accelerating the missiles toward their targets at the same time that their onboard jamming systems, which had used the time spent flying toward their targets to analyse the enemy sensors, suddenly filled space with fake targets. It was only for a moment before the targeting systems readjusted, but combined with the sudden acceleration it was sufficient to break the target lock.

On board the turian cruisers, gunners and electronic warfare specialists struggled frantically to reacquire their targets. Their GARDIAN lasers fired again and again, but their effectiveness had been severely reduced. Still, as the distance decreased, targeting solutions improved and one by one the incoming missiles exploded.

Inside the remaining missiles, the computers had entered a new decision loop. On the one hand, they needed to get as close to the target as possible in order to increase the effectiveness of their payload. On the other hand, that would be pointless if none of the missiles survived to reach that range.  
Eight missiles left... seven... The computers reached a final decision and signals flashed between the missiles to make sure they all agreed. One more missile flashed out of existence, then with what could almost be termed a form of electronic resignation, each onboard computer sent a final command and half a dozen warheads detonated simultaneously.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Disaster struck. One moment captain Livestian had been watching intently as his gunners engaged the enemy missiles, the next-

"Nuclear detonation! Sensors are off-line!"

Livestian could see the latter part for himself. All across the bridge, haptic displays flickered as their input disappeared.

"Report!"

"Captain, the missiles detonated." Lieutenant Tirius glanced at her own display as she tried to analyse what little data she had. "They used some kind of nuclear warhead with a lot of radiation and massive EMP. It overloaded the sensors completely. They're resetting, but it'll take time and some of the receivers may have been burned out completely.

**USM Osawa**

Admiral van Buren had mixed feelings as he looked at the result of the missile strike. They had detonated within effective range of their targets, but the aliens had managed to reduce their number by about two-thirds before they reached that point. That was bad news for future engagements, not only for the continued effectiveness of ASAT missiles, but also for fighter pilots, once the USM brought its carriers into action. Still, they had gained a lot of information on the aliens' passive and active defences that would come in useful later and the enemy's active sensors seemed to have shut down at least for the moment.

"All ships, maximum acceleration. Use all active EW systems to keep their sensors down.

**-o-o-o-**

The four destroyers bore down on their targets behind a wall of electronic noise. The turian sensors, which had still not recovered from the nuclear detonation, were overloaded again and started to reset. Unfortunately for them, they had run out of time. Van Buren had deliberately ordered his gunners to hold their fire during the approach, which allowed his gunners to refine their targeting solutions as much as possible. Desperate fire from the three turian vessels slashed through his formation, but most of it missed. There were a few hits, of course, for electronic warfare could only do so much, and humans shields flared under the impacts, but it was simply not enough.  
Four spinal mass accelerators fired as one, their fire distributed over two targets.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

The ship shook as the concentrated fire of two aliens vessels slammed into its shields. As before, the alien mass accelerators seemed to be less powerful than what an equivalent turian design would produce and for a moment it appeared that the shield would hold. However, the aliens had compensated to a certain extent with a higher rate of fire and the shields flared as they absorbed round after round. It was simply too much and alarms flashed on the bridge as mass accelerator slugs tore into the hull.

"Captain! Range is closing: They're going to pass us."

"Stand by for broadside engagement! All weapons, fire at will!"

**-o-o-o-**

The two formations interpenetrated and broadside guns exchanged fire in the instant that they could be brought to bear. Under the circumstances neither force was particularly accurate, the turian targeting sensors had still not recovered completely and the relative velocity was simply too great for either side. Still, both sides managed to score hits. By now two of the turian cruisers had been stripped of their shields, which more than compensated for the more powerful turian weapons.  
Out of four human destroyers, three managed to keep their shields up despite the turian fire. The fourth took several direct hits, destroying part of her sensor array and disabling one of her secondary mass accelerators, but the integrity of the hull remained intact. The turians didn't fare so well. One of the cruisers, which still had active shields, took only a few hits that were easily shrugged off, but the other two took the full force of the attack directly on their already damaged hulls and new alarms flashed as both suffered multiple hull breaches.

The moment that the two formations passed each other, each of the human destroyers began to rotate around is own vertical axis, allowing the main thrusters to contribute directly to the deceleration and bringing their spinal cannons to bear again even as the range opened.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Primarch's Pride**

Livestian closed his eyes in despair as the damage reports came in. They had managed to inflict some damage on one of the alien ships, but two of his cruisers, including his own flagship, had been badly hurt in the process. Already the enemy was turning, decelerating sharply to stay within engagement range and bringing the full weight of their main batteries back into action. If he did the same and came around for another pass it was unlikely that any of his cruisers would survive. There was simply no way to win this battle. It was time to save what could be saved.

"Signal all ships: Scatter and accelerate to FTL. Carry word to the hierarchy."

**USM Osawa**

"Admiral, they're scattering."

"Split our formation. Pursue and destroy targets alpha-1 and alpha-2."

"Sir, that means the third cruiser is going to get away. There is no way we'll be able to overtake her."

"I know, Shen.' Van Buren shrugged. "We cannot prevent word from getting back to the aliens anyway; that frigate's already on its way out of the system. As for destroying the third cruiser, it's not worth the damage we would take if we fought those ships one on one."

**-o-o-o-**

For the second time in less than a week LV-758 was host to a deadly race, and this time the turians were losing. It was a fundamental problem with warship design, which focused primarily on forward firing spinal weapons. In a pursuit, all the advantages were with the pursuer, who could use his main battery, while the pursued could only fire back with secondary guns, if at all. The turian cruisers fled as fast as they could, relying on electronic jamming and random course changes to throw off the enemy targeting, but it was simply not enough. With two destroyers pursuing each cruiser the humans could coordinate their fire, compensating for the turian manoeuvres, and no amount of jamming could compensate completely for the massive disbalance in available firepower.

One of the cruisers suddenly veered of course, one of its thrusters disabled by a lucky hit. Unable to continue running the turians turned their ship around, bringing their primary armament in action again. A short, furious exchange of fire followed and hull plating on one of the human destroyers shattered under the impact of multiple hits at short range, but in the end it was for nothing. The human return fire sheared one of the 'wings' of the turian ship completely off, sending it spiralling out of control as half of its maneouvering thrusters failed. The human ships simply passed the helpless vessel, pouring broadside fire into it as they went by, then turned around for another firing pass, but it was no longer necessary. The turian ship was adrift in space, all weapons silent.

By now the unpursued ships had reached the edge of the system, well out of range of any possible pursuit, but their commanders hesitated to jump to FTL. Through their drones, they could still observe the final stage of the battle as Primarch's Pride suddenly stopped accelerating. By now the flagship was no more than a wreck trailing debris and atmosphere from more than a dozen hull breaches, and a sudden spike in the energy readings showed that her element zero core had destabilized. The pursuers, clearly observing the same telltale signs, refrained from closing but still poured more fire into the dying ship. For a moment it seemed that, like the other cruiser, she would simply end up as a dead hulk in space when, suddenly, a searing flash of light overloaded all sensors. By the time the observers regained their vision, no trace of the flagship could be found.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**According to the Alien Wiki ASAT missiles have fragmentation warheads, but that didn't seem to be very efficient against a shield, so I found a new use for them. I wanted to come up with a reason that the ME universe doesn't seem to use missiles against ships, but at the same time have a reason that humans still have them. Note: EMP would be limited in space, but could still work due to direct impact of radiation on exposed electrical systems. I don't expect it to actually take out a warship, but it could trip a lot of circuit breakers in sensors and navigation systems just when you cannot afford it; and of course, a massive radiation burst could simply destroy a sensor, depending of the kind of filters you have in place.**

* * *

**aDarkOne:**** Yes, van Buren is overconfident. He thinks he's Bill Halsey in a starship (emphasis on 'thinks'), plus he has a personal agenda concerning naval policy. There's an irony to it: his career stalled for political reasons, but in a military sense that may be a good thing: he shouldn't be promoted further anyway. I expect he will become the centre of historical dispute: some people admire him as a good tactician, others denounce him as a loose cannon who caused the war to escalate.**

**timedraven117:**** You can hide underground, assuming you're deep enough (say 5 km or so) and that you can afford to wait until you can dig your way out, but you've lost control of whatever forces you were commanding. It can work for a civilian bombshelter, but not for an HQ. **

**Eipok:**** No centralized HQ at all could work. It's inefficient but less vulnerable. You can also try to build a mobile headquarters and keep it moving around in an unpredictable pattern. Any attempt at ramming with relativistic speed would rely on precise knowledge of the target's location. Actually, with the Alien style FTL drive you can build a huge ship that can serve as an HQ. It'll be slow compared to ME style ships, but at least it can move. I'll have to think about that a bit. Maybe the USM will learn from this situation and invest in such a platform.**


	8. Assessments

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Sorry for the delay. Real-life interfered in the form of me crashing my motorcycle. Nothing serious, but I had to type with one hand for a while. Things are better now, so I hope to get back to doing quick updates.**

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**July 24, 2228, human reckoning**

**Arcturus station**

Admiral Drescher and general Perez were going over the latest reports from Shanxi. There had been a lot of those recently and with each report the situation seemed to be getting more complicated.

'Van Buren is quite elated isn't he?" Perez remarked

"Elated? That's probably an understatement. It's like all his birthdays have come at once."

"You sound less enthusiastic."

Admiral Drescher shrugged. "Look, I won't deny that it is gratifying to know that we can take on these aliens if we have to, and god knows that we needed that victory to soften the blow for what happened to Jankowski's force."

That had been a blow indeed. The research vessel had finally made it home, limping into Shanxi several days after knews from van Buren's victory had been received. That she had been able to do so at all was a major tribute to her builders, but the news she had brought had been dire. Both Gallipoli and Bomarsund had been lost, presumably with all hands. Combined with Auriga's own casualty list that brought the total death toll to more than seven hundred. On top of that, Auriga herself had taken so much damage that it seemed unlikely that she would ever be spaceworthy again. Not a good beginning for mankind's first interstellar war. Still, van Buren's victory had probably gone a long way toward evening the score.

"On the other hand," admiral Dreschner continued. "We've probably lost whatever chance we had of solving this peacefully and Shanxi is awfully exposed. If these aliens return, that's where they will attack, and if Shanxi falls the whole strategic situation will go straight to hell."

Perez nodded. "What about the prisoners? Any chance of opening communications through them?"

Admiral Drescher shook her head.

"Nothing I'm afraid. We're still working on getting even the most basic translation going. On top of that we have another problem: It seems they cannot eat human food. Something about their aminoacids turning the wrong way. The eggheads are trying to work something out, but it means that right now we have to focus on keeping them alive."

Van Buren's ships had picked up a number of lifepods, so they finally had an idea what the aliens looked like. Though somewhat bird-like in appearance they were not too dissimilar from humans in that they had two legs, two arms and recognizable facial features. Other than that the main comment had been that they probably tasted like chicken. Xenobiologists across human space would be salivating at the thought of the research they could be doing, but most of that would have to wait until both sides could understand each other. The last thing anyone wanted or needed was to further inflame the situation with accusations of prisoners of war being used for scientific experiments. Unfortunately, according to the latest reports humanity didn't have much of a choice if they wanted to keep the prisoners alive.

"So," Perez asked. "Assuming that they will attack us again before we can open negotiations. What can be done to make sure that Shanxi doesn't get overrun?"

"Not much I'm afraid. Right now we have two destroyers and six RDV's at Shanxi, van Buren's four destroyers in LV-758, and five frigates scouting the surrounding systems. Unfortunately, we still have no idea where these things came from. According to van Buren, the dormant relay in LV-758 is still very much dormant, so they didn't come from the other side. We'll have to search the surrounding star systems one at a time to determine their origins. Even with the help of unmanned probes, that is going to take time, and we'll have to wait for the scouts' reports before we can decide on a course of action. Even then we'll need permission from Earth before we make any real moves."

"What about fighter strength?"

Admiral Drescher shrugged. "By now I have three squadrons of SA-23 Starfuries at Shanxi, plus two squadrons of F-302s. That's as much as we can support logistically. It's not bad, but from what we've seen of the aliens' point defense we'll need a lot more to overwhelm them. If they come after Shanxi in strength we won't be able to stop them, unless I get permission to take second fleet there."

"I see." General Perez was clearly unhappy. "And how likely is that?"

"According to the latest update from general Spears? Does the phrase 'snowflake in hell' mean anything to you?"

Perez sighed. It wasn't really unexpected, but still... "So, are they deliberately stalling, or just stupid as usual?"

"From what I hear, a little of both. They are pretty stupid, of course, but earth's politicians seem to be stalling on purpose. They need to get re-elected and they think the best way to do that is by putting earth's interests before the colonies'. So, first fleet is not going to leave Sol and that means second fleet has to stay at Arcturus. Add to that the peace-puppies, who just want to welcome our 'new neighbours' with open arms, and nothing is going to get done. All the colonies combined don't have sufficient representation in the Assembly to push a major policy shift through if earth is against it."

"And then the historians still wonder how the corporations managed to gain so much power when we first went out into space. I hate to say it, admiral, but there are days when I wonder if we shouldn't have left them in power, instead of handing it all back to the politicians."

"You're not the only one. Hell, Exogeni has a major stake in Shanxi. If it were up to them, we'd have reinforced already."

"Actually, they alreay have. I just heard from general Williams on Shanxi. According to him Exogeni just brought in a full company of security troops to guard their facilities. Williams doesn't know whether to be grateful for the additional firepower or enraged that it's outside his control." Perez grinned for a moment, then he became serious again. "To get back on subject, if the navy cannot send reinforcements to Shanxi, there isn't anything I can do either. I have a full division of marines concentrated here at Arcturus now, with a second division on the way, but I'm not going to send them in, unless there is a reasonable guarantee that we can support them once they're on the ground."

* * *

**The Citadel, Councillor Tevos' office**

Councilor Tevos, representative of the Asari Republics on the citadel looked up from her terminal as her turian counterpart entered. It had been something of a surprise when Sparatus had asked to see her. He had only recently been appointed to the citadel council and so far had had had little interaction with his colleagues. Then again, that was not all that much of a surprise, seeing as how he had never desired this particular position. Tevos carefully hid the smirk that threatened to appear on her face. Sparatus had had bigger plans for his carreer. Less than a year ago he had made his bid to become the new primarch of the Turian Hierarchy and he had nearly succeeded. Unfortunately for him, nearly had just not been good enough and now primarch Fedorian occupied the highest position a turian could achieve. Since Fedorian was actually the younger of the two, it seemed unlikely that Sparatus would ever get a shot at the top again. In the mean time, the new primarch had appointed his former rival to the citadel council as a form of consolation price and Tevos knew, from bitter experience, how little consolation this particular price brought.

"What is it, councilor?"

Sparatus held out a datapad. "We have a problem."

**-o-o-o-**

"So, let me understand this correctly: Your scouting party made first contact with an unknown species, had two battles with them before being forced from the system, and we're only hearing about this now?"

"They were far from the nearest relay when the first contact occurred. By the time their first message reached the Palaven Command both battles had already taken place. There is a distinct lack of communication buoys in that part of space."

"I see. Still, now that we know, we have to get some diplomats out there right away, before things get completely out of control."

"Palaven command does not believe that council involvement would be wise at this moment." Sparatus voice was completely expressionless. "We are currently unaware of the location and size of the aliens' area of influence. Nor do we know how they will respond to these events. Until we have a better understanding of what we're dealing with, the primarch believes that this should be handled as a purely military matter. After all, we would not want to unnecessarily risk the lives of your diplomats."

Tevos had stiffened at the first words but forced herself to relax. The turians were touchy about their role as galaxy-wide peacekeepers. All the more so, because that role had long since become a subject of considerable controversy among the turians themselves. She would have to be very careful not to to push them too far. If they felt that they had no choice but to defy the council directly, the political ramifications would be dire.

"I assume," she said, carefully keeping her voice as expressionless as Sparatus' "that we will be informed as soon as the necessary information has been obtained."

"I would assume so, yes."

"Then I strongly recommend, that we convene a meeting of the entire council. Perhaps involving the ambassadors of the other races as well. After all, we will have to be prepared to open negotiations, once the hierarchy considers it safe for our diplomats."

"Ah, yes, I'm sure that would be wise, though we may want to wait with involving the non-council species until we have a better idea of the timetable that we're working with."

_In other words, the primarch, or whoever is pushing him on this, wants the turians to go it alone and the universe will die of its own entropy before they invite the council to become involved._ It was, unfortunately, not a new attitude, but not one that Tevos could hope to change, even if the managed to bring Sparatus around to her side of the argument. Officially the turian peacekeeping fleets answered to the council's authority, but in practice... It would definitely NOT do to bring that particular relationship out in the open.

"Of course, I'm sure you're right." A sudden thought occurred to her. "This new species, what do their ships look like?"

"Like someone slapped an engine on a collection of cargo boxes, why do you ask?"

"Because I've heard that description before." The small worry that Tevos had felt was growing rapidly. She opened a new screen on her display and searched through a long list of messages until she found the relevant entry. "I received a report from one of our survey ships, the Light of Dawn, a few days ago. Captain Shiana Armali found a derelict freighter of unknown design in an empty system and is moving to investigate. It may just be a coincidence, but-"

"No." Sparatus looked at the report, a grim look on his face. "It's the same general area of space. No way that it's just a coincidence. I'll send a message to Palaven command and ask them to dispatch reinforcements. At the very least they can warn your people."

Tevos breathed a sigh of relief. She might not be able to fix the bigger problem right away, but at least in the mean time she could do some good .

* * *

**Aephus shipyards**

"My little brother Saren is very upset." General Desolas Arterius, military governor of the Aephus shipyards, smirked a little. "I suppose I cannot blame him. Half the squadron wiped out, including his commanding officer, and he never even got close to the enemy. I've put him in command of the scout detail. That should at least give him something to do, other than brood on fate's injustices."

"So, have they had any success finding the aliens?" General Septimus Oraka, the other officer in the room asked. As second-in-command of the Aethus military district he knew about the scouting effort. In fact, if it had had any results, he should have known about that too. Unfortunately, general Arterius occasionally kept such information to himself.

"The humans, you mean."

"What?"

"Humans," general Arterius repeated. "That's what they call themselves according to the prisoners."

"So, they're finally talking?"

"Oh yes, we brought in a couple of asari to do the questioning." General Arterius' mandibles twitched in the turian equivalent of a smirk. "A friendly face, you know? They got further within a day than we had gotten in a week. No mind melds, of course. Asari don't like doing that kind of thing by force, but at least we have enough data on these humans' language to start working on a translation program."

"Does that mean that we'll be able to open negotiations?"

"Perhaps, assuming that they'll be willing to talk back. That brings me to the reason I asked you here. We've both seen the reports of what happened to Livestian and I need an assessment: if these humans aren't open to negotiations, can we defeat them? More to the point, can we defeat them quickly, without putting our entire people on a war footing?"

General Oraka looked thoughtful. "I would assume that we can defeat them, if we have to. From the reports, our technology is better. We have stronger weapons and better shields. Unless they have an overwhelming numerical advantage, we should eventually get the upper hand in space. Sure, those missile were a nasty surprise, but I've studied their performance record and I think we can deal with them. If a ship moves quickly enough, the missile will have to come out of stealth early or risk losing its target. That would allow the GUARDIAN lasers to take them out from a much longer range. Perhaps we can bring in fighters as part of the defense as well. Planetside, things may be tougher but the end result should be the same. On the ground technology means less, but we should have control of the orbitals. In the end that will give us the upper hand"

"So, what happened to recon squadron 24? Did the humans just get lucky?"

"They had all the advantages. They came in by surprise, deployed a type of weapon our people were not prepared for, and, frankly, they were far better led."

"You disapprove of Livestian's actions?"

General Oraka hesitated. "I don't want to speak ill of the dead. Captain Livestian had many good qualities. You can see it from his reports. His analysis was thorough and makes a great deal of sense, but his tactics... He would have made a good staff officer, but he was no use in the field."

Desolas nodded. Oraka's assessment seemed to match his own. Still, it never hurt to make sure. "Just so we understand each other perfectly. In your opinion, where did he go wrong?"

Oraka looked him straight in the eye.

"He didn't go wrong, so much, as that he just never went anywhere. He lost the initiative right away and never even tried to regain it. Look at the contrast. These, eh, humans came in with a clear plan and executed it flawlessly: Jump in close, launch those missiles, follow up with mass accelerators. Then they blew straight through Livestian's formation, turned around, and prepared to repeat the process. It has all the signs of people working from an established playbook. I doubt their commander even had to give any orders until Livestian ordered his ships to scatter and even then there was no hesitation. On the other hand, Livestian never quite made up his mind what he wanted to do. He didn't really want to fight and he didn't really want to run. So, he tried to do a little of both and failed completely.

"So, what should he have done, in your opinion."

"He had a choice: He could have run immediately, or he could have stood and fought. In the first case, well, he would probably have had to leave some of his fighters and shuttles behind. If he had decided to fight, he should have deployed all fighters, brought in his remaining frigate, and attacked aggressively. As it is, he got the worst of both worlds. Caught in place without fighter cover and then running for his life with the enemy battering him all the way."

"So, assuming that we put more competent commanders in the field, will we be able to defeat them? Quickly?"

Oraka considered the question carefully. "As I said before, it all comes down to numbers. They have the ability to hurt us, certainly. Now, if they are a relatively small entity, we should be able to overwhelm them in short order, but if they are anywhere near our size, it could get very, very ugly."

"And right now we cannot afford that." Desolas looked at his older colleague. "You know as well as I that we don't have the resources for a prolonged war, not unless we could get the other council races on board. We'd bankrupt ourselves. And, frankly, I don't see either the asari or the salarians supporting us beyond the required minimum. The asari never approve of full scale war unless all other options are exhausted and the salarians don't attack anything unless they have solid intelligence. No, we cannot count on their support."

From there the conversation moved on to other topics. Once general Oraka left, Desolas Arterius returned to studying the reports from the battles near Relay 314. It was clear that something had to be done before things spiraled out of control. The last thing the hierarchy needed was a major interstellar conflict dragging on for years. Then again, the next-to-last thing they needed was for the turians to end up looking like fools, first attacking an unknown species, then backing down as soon as the newcomers showed their teeth. It was a quandary, but perhaps..., perhaps it could also be an opportunity.

* * *

**Geneva, Earth. The Assembly of the United Systems.**

"...and therefore I must insist that our navy do all in its power to ensure that these alien invaders are kept away from our mother world. We simply cannot risk that humanity's home be threatened with invasion. Only once we can be assured that such danger has passed could we possibly risk the sort of reduction of our local military strength that will inevitably follow from any military adventures."

General Spears tuned out the droning voice of the latest speaker. After all, it was not as though this particular idiot had anything to say that had not been said before. For the past three days an endless row of speakers had presented all the arguments as to why the United Systems Military would have to remain frozen in place. A majority of Earth's elected politicians, still the largest block of votes in the Assembly, just wanted to make sure earth was defended at the expense of everything else (including rational thought). Iso=lationists from both earth and half a dozen of its oldest colonies just wanted for the problem to go away and figured ignoring it was the best policy. The pacifists had bewailed the conflict and were sure that a peaceful approach would persuade the aliens to become humanity's new BFFs, which provided all the other bury-your-head-in-the-sand advocates with a fig leaf of morality to hide behind. By now all views had been represented and the process had become repetitive. The handful of representatives of Shanxi and the colonies near Arcturus had argued vehemently in favor of immediate military action, but they didn't have anywhere near the required numbers to challenge the majority. Some of the big corporations, the ones that had financial interests in the Shanxi system, were lobbying in favor of action as well, but they were hampered by the bad reputation they had acquired during the past two centuries. Besides, there were as many corporations lobbying against military action as in favor. After all, those that had not invested in Shanxi figured that the others' loss would be their gain.

As Spears' eyes wandered around the giant hall, his gaze crossed that of chairwoman Patricia Hammerstein. There, he knew, lay the key to the whole issue. Traditionally the offices of Chair of the United Systems Assembly and General Secretary of Earth's United Nations were combined in one person. It had been one the concessions done to Earth during the formation of the United Systems and, combined with the fact that Earth provided the majority of the Assembly members, it concentrated tremendous influence in one individual. If anyone could swing the tide, even in the face of massive opposition it was ms. Hammerstein. So far she had refrained from public comment, exercising her privilege to give the final speech during any debate. Unfortunately, Spears suspected that behind the scenes she had been far more active than anyone suspected. Hammerstein had attained her current position based on a pro-earth platform that had already resulted in a reduction of both military expenditure and government funded colonization efforts. If she was pushing others to block any form of military reinforcement of Shanxi, she could get what she wanted without ever taking responsibility for the policy and whatever disasters might follow form it.

The speaker had finished and yielded the floor for the next pontificating fool who thought he was entitled to an opinion. Spears sighed. If they continued like this it might not even matter what decision they reached. The war would be over before they finished talking. In fact, that might well be the whole point of this exercise.

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**Obviously the total death toll is going to be worse than in canon, but that is hardly surprising. In canon the humans lost less than 700 people, but considering the size of ME crews a single naval engagement should already have put them there. If you add orbital bombardments it almost has to get a lot higher. **

**For the situation involving the Light of Dawn, please read my first story ****Someone has heard them scream.**

* * *

**RandomReader****: Yes, a rapidly manoeuvering target would be a problem. It would be a race to see if the missile can close the distance before the target ship gets out of the engagement envelope. That puts an upper limit on the range at which you can effectively deploy the ASAT missiles. On the other hand, the ASAT missile could fire its second stage early and just go for a high speed approach, using small, random, course changes and electronic warfare to counter enemy point defense, rather than stealth. In any case, I certainly don't think they are the ultimate tactical weapon. More like a clever trick that humans came up with to make use of their missile technology that would otherwise have been made obsolete by the discovery of element zero.**


	9. Gathering data

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Again, this took longer than I had hoped. Typing is still a bit painful, but my hand is getting better.**

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**July 25, 2228 Human reckoning**

**Near Relay 288**

Like most ships built for the USM naval forces the frigates were severely lacking in aesthetic qualities, but where most ships looked like a set of boxes with a couple of engines strapped to them as an afterthought, frigates went the other way: Four huge engines with in the middle, rather as an afterthought, the hull. Their appearance reflected their design philosophy. For frigates their engines were everything, giving them the necessary acceleration to move in and out of trouble without getting caught by a more powerful enemy. However, the three frigates that moved slowly into the system had shut their engines down almost completely. Acceleration wasn't required. Not yet.

Mounted on the outside of the hull of each frigate were a pair of missiles. The missiles were huge, sharing the same fuselage with the ASAT missiles carried by destroyers. Not that they actually had much in common with ASAT missiles. Rather, the navy, finding itself lacking funds for its missile program, had applied the same missile body to a different, more peaceful project to get it past the civilian oversight committees. Then, as soon as funding had been secured, most of it had been transferred to the actual ASAT program. Of the missiles that had officially been funded, only a handful had ever been produced with the intention of deploying them from USM Auriga for exploration duties, but even that plan had come to nothing because the missiles had not progressed beyond the prototype stage by the time Auriga departed on its fateful first deployment. Now, in a move both desperate and brilliant, these prototype missiles had been pressed into service.

As the frigates moved in-system, navigational data was loaded into the missiles' computer systems, which started plotting their respective courses. Then, one by one, the missiles detached from their motherships and gently floated away, using the momentum imparted by the frigates own motion to send them on their way, even as the frigates themselves veered slightly off course.

A minute passed, two, as the missiles' onboard software evaluated the situation. Some were satisfied, others made a few small course corrections. Then each missile send a short burst transmission to its launch vessel.

**USM Dagger**

"All missiles active and on course, madam."

"Good. Let's hope they stay that way. We'll give them one hour, then we move to phase two." Commander Farnsworth looked at the navigational display. The system itself was rather uninteresting, a handful of small planets, none of them even remotely inhabitable, two gas giants, both of them very much average, all of them orbiting an equally average G-type. As a star system it was utterly unremarkable. The only thing that mattered was the mass relay that a scouting party had discovered twenty four hours earlier. It was fortunate that her frigates had already been equipped with the new missiles, otherwise there would have been a significant delay before they could carry out their mission.  
Finding the the relay that had allowed the aliens access to this part of space had been a major achievement, but it was not enough. Humanity had to know more, and that meant going past the relay, and past the alien force that was guarding it. That was what today's mission was all about.

**-o-o-o-**

"Coming up on the one hour mark, ma'am."

"Good, signal the other ships: Initiate phase 2"

A second passed, two, then all three frigates lit of their drives and accelerated quickly toward the relay.

* * *

**HNV Blade of Palaven**

To commander Hieratus, in charge of the turian cruiser guarding Relay 288, the sudden appearance of the three human frigates didn't come as much of a surprise. The humans had to be scouting the surrounding systems as diligently as the turians and they were bound to find Relay 288 sooner or later. In fact, the cruiser had briefly picked up some sensor echoes almost a day earlier. While they had initially been dismissed as background noise, the commanding officer had been nervous enough to deploy a fighter patrol. The search had come up up empty, but that was not much reassurance. His ship, the Blade of Palaven was the only surviving cruiser of Recon Squadron 24 to remain fit for duty. So far Hieratus had survived two engagements with this new species and he preferred not to break that winning streak through overconfidence. Unfortunately, the tactical situation was not good. A view days earlier, lieutenant Saren Arterius, acting on orders from his brother, had taken all available frigates out of the system to search for the origin of the human ships, leaving the Blade of Palaven on its own to guard the relay. Additional force waited on the other side of the relay connection, but they were under strict orders not to deploy without orders from Palaven command, leaving only the one cruiser to face whatever the humans decided to throw at it.  
So far the odds were not too bad. One cruiser, with a full complement of fighters, against three frigates. A reasonable match, except the cruiser could only be in one place at the time and the frigates, with their superior acceleration, could dance all around the larger vessel. They might not be able to destroy the Blade, but if all they wanted was to push through to the relay, it would be nearly impossible for one ship to stop them all. Still, Hieratus had his orders and he had no choice but to try and defend the relay to the best of his ability.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger**

The frigates advanced in line abreast, bunched up more closely than commander Farnsworth would have preferred. As a tactical deployment it was definitely substandard. However, they were not here to fight. Not really.

"Enemy fighters approaching ma'am."

"What about the big guy?"

"No movement so far."

"So, we've got a cautious one this time."

"Not surprising," her first officer spoke up. "According to the energy signature, this is the same ship that got away from admiral van Buren. They've seen what can happen."

"Perhaps." Farnsworth felt some ambivalence toward the current situation. On the one hand, she much preferred to stay out of range of the bigger ship. The after action reports from the two earlier engagements had shown that the alien ships, like the navy's destroyers, relied heavily on large spinal mass accelerators and she was perfectly happy to stay out of range of that kind of firepower. On the other hand, she really needed that ship to move away from the relay.

"Alright, we'll have to push them a little. All ships, advance and engage the fighters."

**-o-o-o-**

Eight turian fighters bore down on the three frigates, sweeping in across the starboard flank in an attempt to concentrate their fire on a single ship. As they approached, defensive lasers reached out. The line abreast formation was rather sub-par when it came to fighting off flank attacks, but the close proximity allowed the frigates to overlap their fields of fire and the frigates themselves were sufficiently manoeuverable to be able to adjust their positions accordingly.  
One fighter suddenly spun out of control as a laser beam sliced into its engine. A second fighter was hit but continued its approach seemingly unaffected. Mass accelerator slugs from all seven fighters tore into the frigate Glaive, which was the most exposed of the three ships. Her shields failed in one spot, an hull plating tore lose under the incoming fire even as a second fighter exploded. Within a second the fighters crossed the width of the formation, spreading out and twisting away in order to get out of range.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Blade of Palaven**

Two fighters lost and one damaged in exchange for minor damage to one frigate. It was not unexpected, but nevertheless extremely unwelcome news. Still, at least the little exercise had given Hieratus some information on the firepower of the human ship, which would be useful.

"Order the fighters to retreat and take up position around the relay; then take us out on an intercept course. But slowly. I don't want to stray too far from the relay."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger**

"The big ship is moving, commander"

"Good," Commander Farnsworth allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction. What is the ETA on the missiles?"

"Ten minutes, ma'am."

"Excellent. Come about forty-five degrees starboard and prepare to cross its T as it closes. We'll have to keep that ship occupied for a little while."

**-o-o-o-**

The three frigates spread out in line ahead and adjusted their course. Unlike the oncoming turian cruiser they had no spinal weapons but carried their main armament in turrets. It reduced the power of individual mass accelerators, but gave them more tactical flexibility. The cruiser slowly closed the distance, seemingly reluctant to abandon its position near the mass relay. As it approached electronic warfare systems on both sides started to probe the enemy's defences. By now both sides in the conflict had learned a few things about each other's systems and it showed. Displays suddenly flared up with random noise as systems overloaded with random noise, or showed echoes that jumped around wildly as fake targets replaced the real ones.  
Suddenly a burst of fire crossed the empty space between the formations as the turians opened fire at extreme range. the first salvo missed, apparently aimed at a false target, as did the second. The human frigates responded, rapidly firing their low powered weapons. At this stage of the engagement the humans had the advantage as the rapid fire of their mass accelerators allowed them to quickly adjust their aim. Still, the range was extreme and neither side had much chance of delivering a serious blow. Turians shields flared as a metal slug tore into them, then a second, a third. Still they held as the humans failed to score sufficient hits to overload them. Meanwhile, turian gunners checked their targeting solutions and carefully adjusted their aim. A new salvo sped away and within moments a cheer went up among the turians as one of the human frigates suddenly fell out of formation, trailing debris and atmosphere.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger**

**"**Dammit! Get Glaive out of here!"

The frigate, previously damaged by the fighters had taken a direct hit on its hull. Fortunately her engines seemed undamaged, sparing Farnsworth the decision as to whether or not to abandon her. Still, with one ship fleeing the battle and the enemy targeting clearly improving, the situation was rapidly becoming critical.

"Commander! Our missiles are at the relay!"

**-o-o-o-**

The six missiles had slowly, but steadily, moved along their trajectory. Having fixed their approach vector within seconds of being launched they had had no further need for course corrections. Now they had reached their destination and it was time to stop hiding. From each of the missiles a short transmission went out toward the mass relay. The relay answered, providing the missiles' onboard computers with the data they sought: the coordinates of the relay that had been used by the last ship to pass through. Within a fraction of a second the computers made their evaluation. A new signal went out and suddenly the surrounding space lit up as the relay started powering up. Simultaneously all six missiles activated their engines.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Blade of Palaven**

"Sir, the relay is activating!"

"What?"

"Signal from the fighters. They're detecting missiles on approach. Low speed."

As Hieratus looked on a small group of signals appeared on his tactical display: relatively small objects, tentatively labelled as missiles, that seemed to converge on the relay.

_The relay activating, missiles... What in the spirits' name are they shooting those missile at? There is no way they can hit the fighters, besides-_

It took only a moment to put it all together. "Order the fighters to engage!"

"But sir-"

"Do it, you fools! Those aren't missiles. They're scouts. They're trying to get through the relay."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger**

"Enemy fighters engaging the missiles."

"They seem to have figured it out." It was all out of her hands now and commander Farnsworth could only watch as the alien fighters swooped down on the relay probes. As a program it had always seemed a bit far-fetched: Unmanned probes based on ASAT missile bodies that could not only pass through a relay in order to scout the other side, but could actually reactivate the relay and, potentially travel from one relay to another as long as their power supply held out. In theory their onboard computers were smart enough to map out a system of interconnected relays and then make their way back toward the point of origin. That was complicated enough. Their current mission took it to a whole new level. No one had ever intended for the probes to be deployed under enemy fire. Their best defence was to stay hidden. Unfortunately, their was no way to hide the activation of a relay.

One probe disappeared from the plot. The probes' stealth systems an delectronic counter measures were state of the art, but by now the alien fighters were on top of them and could engage based on purely visual targeting. A second probe vanished, but by then the remainder had reached the relay. A blinding flash of light, then the relay powered down.

"Not bad. Four out of six have gone through. Now all we can do is wait. Get us out of here."

Careful not to stray any further within range of the alien warship, the two frigates turned away to follow their damaged squad mate and accelerated toward the outer reaches of the system.

* * *

**HNV Talon Strike, Shanxi, outer system**

Saren Arterius felt a cold satisfaction as he looked at the data that the scouts had brought him. It was remarkable really. A system with both a mass relay and a garden world, right on the doorstep of council space and nobody had ever known. Such a waste, really, that it was already inhabited. Still, this was precisely the sort of data that his brother had wanted. They had found the humans' base of operations. Finally, the Hierarchy would be able to strike back and avenge the loss of captain Livestian and his cruisers.

"Lieutenant?" One of the bridge crew called for his attention.

"Yes?"

"The fighter patrol is changing course." That had been another surprise, though perhaps it shouldn't have been. The humans had not employed fighters in either of the two engagements near Relay 314 and some of the turians had speculated that perhaps they didn't use such small craft at all, which would have given the hierarchy a considerable advantage if it came to a full size fleet engagement. Saren had been unconvinced from the start. No one achieved space travel without first achieving atmospheric fight, and it was unlikely that an aggressive, warlike species, like these humans clearly were, would have developed aircraft without exploiting their combat potential. From atmospheric fighter to space fighter was not all that big a step and Saren had found it hard to believe that a species would simply ignore such an obvious possibility. As it turned out he had been right. Although this star system seemed only lightly defended, there was a definite fighter presence with multiple squadrons operating from a platform in orbit around the garden world.

"Have we been detected?"

"It would seem so, sir." The sensor analyst took another look at the data. "Definitely, sir. They are on an intercept course."

Saren hesitated for a moment. Part of him wanted to stay a little longer and allow the fighters to come into weapon range. That would allow him to finally engage the humans directly and vent some of his frustration at having been denied a part in the earlier battles. However, common sense won out. There was no telling how powerful the weapons on these fighters were and the unexpected defeat of Reconnaisance Squadron 24 had shown that the humans should not be underestimated. Four fighters were unlikely to defeat a frigate, but there was always the chance of a lucky hit and the information he had gathered was too important to run any foolish risks.

"Take us out of the system. Set a course for Relay 288."

* * *

**Shanxi, planetside**

General Williams, military commander (groundforces) of the Shanxi system, sighed as he read the report. The fighter patrol had spotted the alien frigate on the edge of the system and tried to intercept, but distance and relative speed had been against them and the alien ship had escaped long before they managed to reach engagement range.

"Well, I suppose it was inevitable. There aren't that many viable star systems around here. They were bound to find us sooner or later. Still, I could have wished we'd had more reinforcements before they found us. We must look like the perfect target."

The assembled officers wisely remained silent. It was not the first time the general had complained about the lack of reinforcements and it probably wouldn't be the last. Worse, everybody knew that plenty of reinforcements were available at Arcturus, only one relay jump away. Unfortunately, they might as well have been in a different galaxy for all the good they were going to do to Shanxi, unless the Assembly gave them permission to deploy.

"So, now that we all know the bad news, what is our status?"

"We're doing everything we can planetside, sir," Colonel MacGruder, his senior battalion commander, answered. "The marines are as ready as they'll ever be, we've called up the militia and we're training them as hard as possible. It'll take a few more weeks to bring them fully up to standard, but they're coming along."

Williams nodded. "Good. And in space?"

There was an awkward silence, while everybody carefully avoided looking at the only naval officer in the room who nervously adjusted her glasses. Lieutenant Sosa was in an difficult position. As the naval liaison to general Williams' staff she had had the unenviable task of repeatedly telling the general that the navy could not provide him with the support he needed. Today was not going to be much different.

"We'll have plenty of advance warning," she began, trying to paint as positive a picture as possible. "There are three frigates near the enemy relay at all times. They'll be able to alert us if the enemy comes through in strength. That will give admiral van Buren time to redeploy and either attack them, or fall back on Shanxi."

"And then what?" One of the army officers asked. "Will we get reinforced or not?"

"That... that is a political decision, sir."

"I see," Williams said. "So, in other words, nothing has changed. As far as the rest of the navy is concerned, we're on our own." It was a rather unfair statement and Willimas knew it, but right now he didn't particularly care.

"General." Lieutenant Sosa hesitated a moment. "There is one more thing we can do. So far it's purely theoretical, but we believe we can improve the defences around Shanxi quite a bit."

"Oh?"

"Yes, sir. We've been looking at our local ASAT stockpile. There are far more missile there than we can possibly use and we've been looking at alternative ways to deploy them." She pulled out a datapad. "The main problem is command and control. We simply don't have enough telemetry links. However..."

* * *

**3 days later, Geneva, Earth**

"... and so I must protest most vehemently against the needlessly aggressive stance, forced upon us by the officials of the United Systems Military. Surely any well meaning person would realize that if we could only bring ourselves to meet these beings with an open mind and an open heart we cannot fail but achieve-"

As he listened to yet another gutless wonder bleating about how the care-bear approach to interspecies diplomacy would save humanity from both the aliens and itself through the power of love, general Spears wondered once again how long chairwoman Hammerstein thought she could drag out these proceedings. By now Spears was convinced that that was her game. Whatever he thought of Hammerstein, and by now that was a long list of mostly unprintable things, she was far from stupid. She had to know that this was pointless. The endless debate had been going on for more than two weeks now and nothing, absolutely nothing, had been achieved.  
Initially, Spears had thought that is was purely a matter of local politics, that Hammerstein and her friends were making sure of their own re-election by showing how they gave earth, and its people, priority over the colonies, while paying lip-service to the pacifist agenda and the very attractive peace dividend that it had achieved over the past decade. However, as he watched, day after day, while one pointless speech followed another, a different picture had begun to emerge. Hammerstein was staying too much in the background, letting other people do the talking and the stalling. She was simply not vocal enough to impress the voters and profit directly from the current political deadlock. There had to be another agenda.

"General, sir." One of his aides had entered the room and handed him a note. "A message form Arcturus, sir. It is flagged as the highest priority."

Spears took the note. It was short and to the point.

To: Gen. T. Spears, Chief of Staff USM

Hostile scouts spotted at Shanxi. Risk of invasion: high

Requesting permission to deploy second fleet to Shanxi space.

Adm. K. Drescher, CO second fleet

General Spears cursed under his breath. Drescher's request was perfectly understandable... and impossible to approve. As much as he wanted to, he could not send second fleet into Shanxi without the approval of the Assembly.

"Get me an appointment with chairwoman Hammerstein. Today if possible, tomorrow at the latest."

"Yes, sir." The aide hesitated. "Sir, there is a second message. It's from a mr. Harper."

"Harper?" Spears searched his memory, but drew a blank. "Never heard of him. Who is he, and what does he want?"

"According to his credentials he works for the USM Intelligence Branch, sir. He says that it's imperative that he speak with you right away. He asked me to tell you that he can answer all your questions. That's a direct quote, sir."

"Really?" Spears hesitated. He didn't like the idea of leaving the Assembly chamber. Politicians tended to have fragile egos and might take it as an insult if he walked out during a speech. Still, two weeks of boredom and wasted time had not bought him anything but frustration. Perhaps it was time for a change and if the intelligence branch could help him he wasn't going to turn it down..

"Tell this Harper I'll be available within the hour. But warn him, this had better be good."

* * *

**July 29 2228 Human reckoning**

General Desolas Arterius studied the datadump that his brother had send him the moment his frigate reached Relay 288. To say that it was a surprise would have been an understatement.  
_Right on our doorstep, and we never knew! _Desolas had his own opinion on the rigid council laws that had effectively stopped exploration since the Rachni war, and the news that he had just received only increased his disgust. _More than a thousand years of hiding under the bed, too scared to look around, and what has it gained us? Nothing! We still met a hostile species, we still have to fight a war. Might as well have explored as much as we could._ Still, recriminations could wait. He had a strategic situation to deal with and it was a curious one to say the least_._ _Two secondary mass relays, close together, but apparently not connected. We hold one, the humans the other. It's a meeting engagement and a recipe for wholesale slaughter._ _Two sides feeding ships into the battle through their respective relays. The handful of systems between them changing ownership again and again in a stalemate that never ends. If the humans have any strength at all the cost would be terrible, unless-  
_He checked the data again. If Saren's estimate of the humans' naval strength was correct...

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**In canon Harper started out as just a mercenary, but I prefer to give him a solid background in intelligence work.**

**I was feeling a bit lazy, so I borrowed the names of Sosa and Farnsworth from Wingcommander IV.**

**In answer to several suggestions in the reviews: I'm thinking of the ASAT missile as a very versatile platform. Element zero really helps in that respect, because you can use the same engine configuration for both steady performance and short bursts, depending on how you manipulate the mass. So if you want to use the ASAT as a cruise missile, that is an option. You want it to be a homing torpedo, that is also possible. It's just a matter of giving the onboard computer a set of instructions for the desired approach patten, or, alternatively, letting the computer pick one. Keep in mind though, that a relatively slow approach under power is very difficult to perform in space. The missile cannot fly 'under the radar', so it would be very vulnerable to defensive fire.**


	10. The quiet before the storm

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**July 28, 2228, Human reckoning**

**Earth, Geneva, military compound**

"-and if that asshole Harper ever calls again, tell him from me, that he should stick his stupid face down a toilet and drown in his own shit! In fact, if he 's too stupid to manage it, he should let me know and I'll be glad to give him some instructions!" General Spears' temper, never of the mildest variety, was boiling over by the time he reached his quarters. After spending the morning listening to prosing fools, his afternoon had been wasted, waiting in vain for the mysterious Harper to show up.  
Signing off, Spears shut down his communicator and tossed it onto a table while he kicked the door shut behind him.

"Really, general, is that a way to talk about a new friend? It's fortunate, that my ego can take a few blows. Otherwise, I might think you didn't like me."

Spears whirled around. In a corner on the far side of the room, a man was leaning against a wall.

"Mr. Harper, I presume?"

"In the flesh, general. I hope you don't mind I let myself in. I needed to make sure that your apartment was free of unwanted electronic eyes and ears. What we have to discuss is really none of anybody else's business."

Spears studied the man. Physically, Harper seemed rather unimpressive. He was of average height and average weight, neither handsome nor ugly. In fact, the only thing that really stood out was how unremarkable he was. You could pass him on the street a hundred times and still have trouble describing him. The effect was enhanced, most likely on purpose, by the brown and grey suit he wore.

"And how exactly did you manage to get in? Or shouldn't I ask."

Harper smiled. "I suppose I could act mysterious about it, but the answer is really quite simple. The young lady you took out for dinner last Friday, the redhead, among her many accomplishments is a not inconsiderable skill with electronic locks. She provided me with a copy of the entry code."

Spears stiffened slightly. He had never made a secret of his enjoyment of female company, but his staff was usually more careful about screening the escorts he took out.  
Harper seemed to have read his thoughts "Don't worry, general. Your staff did a good job checking her. It's just... well, let's just say I'm very good at what I do."

"I see." Spears chose not to pursue the matter further, though he made a mental note to have some words with his aides on this subject. "Now that you're here, I suppose I might as well listen. You can start by explaining, why I spend the last three hours in my office, waiting for you to show up."

"Like I said, general, I needed to make sure that we couldn't be overheard. When two people discuss a conspiracy, it is best not to let a third party listen in."

"A conspiracy?"

"Oh yes, a conspiracy so obvious, that it goes completely unnoticed; and so clever, that it can be carried out without breaking a single law. It's really quite impressive. By the time Hammerstein and her friends are done, they will either have changed the balance of power within the Alliance of United Systems forever or have condemned us all to either slavery or death. All, without breaking a single law. And there is no legal counter move. After all, as long as the proceedings are lawful, the end has to be lawful."

**-o-o-o-**

Spears poured two drinks and handed a glass to Harper. After all, the man might actually prove to be worth cultivating.

"So, tell me, mr. Harper. What, exactly, is this conspiracy? And if it is all so legal, why would there be a need to conspire?"

Harper smiled briefly. "I said it was legal, general. Not that it was ethical. But let's get back to your first question. I assume you have been observing chairwoman Hammerstein; that you've seen how she has tied up the Assembly with this endless filibustering. Surely you've wondered what her goal is?"

"Of course I have. Hammerstein was elected on a pro-earth, anti-colony platform. It only makes sense that she would oppose any move that sacrifices earth's security to save a colony. But-"

"Exactly! 'But'! But she has not publicly opposed it, so she gains no good-will from her voters base. So why bother? Now others gain the popularity and the votes. No, that cannot be her purpose, general, as I'm sure you already suspect."

Spears nodded. "So you're saying that she has another motive."

"Oh yes. It took me a while to figure it out, but the signs are there if you know what to look for. Think about it, general. What will happen when the inevitable attack comes and Shanxi falls to the aliens?"

"We'll have to counter attack. Even if we're willing to write off the planet and the colonists, we cannot let them keep possession of the relay. It would give the aliens too many options to continue their offensive."

"Yes, of course, but that is not what I'm talking about. What would happen here, in the Assembly, once the colonies realize that they are for the chop? What would be the first thing their representatives do, considering that most people don't really think strategically."

Spears snorted. "They'll demand that we give them protection. Stand shoulder-to-shoulder and fight to defend them to the last drop of blood, or whatever cliche you want to throw at it."

"Exactly! They'll demand protection: warships, marines, fighter squadrons, whatever they can think of."

"So?" Spears felt somewhat lost and he knew it showed. "How would that benefit Hammerstein? We'll just have to do the same thing we should have done, except then we'd have to do it in a dozen places, and we cannot begin to deploy that much firepower."

"I know, so does Hammerstein, and so do the colonists. So tell me, general, when every colony starts screaming for protection and you only have limited resources. Who gets to decide, which colony gets priority?"

"Hammerstein." Spears uttered the name as a curse as a picture began to emerge in his mind. "She controls the Assembly and the Assembly would have the final word. With everyone begging for protection, she could make whatever demands she wanted. God, is she that cynical?"

"That determined? Absolutely, but she wouldn't call it cynical. She is simply doing what is best for humanity: creating a system where earth is firmly in control and the colonies exist only to support earth. That is her vision for our future, and these aliens have given her the perfect opportunity."

"But how can you be sure?"

"Like I told you, general: the signs are there. Already some of the colonial delegates have been approached, not by Hammerstein of course, but by others. There have been offers of warships, garrisons. And always there is that underlying question: what concessions would the colony be willing to do, in return for a favourable vote? Right now, few people are listening; but if Shanxi falls, what will they be willing to do then?"

"But if we lose the Shanxi relay, the whole situation changes. We won't just be defending Arcturus. The relay's second connection is within striking distance of Thedus, as well as half a dozen other colonies. If these aliens are strong enough, they may be able to attack us on two fronts and we won't be able to hold them back."

"Come general, are you seriously suggesting that the universe might fail to align itself according to ms. Hammerstein's wishes? You must be joking." Harper smirked. "All sarcasm aside, I'm sure she is at least theoretically aware of the dangers. Unfortunately, I don't think those are quite as real to her as the very obvious advantage she stands to gain. Historically, otherwise intelligent people have been known to completely ignore inconvenient facts and I'm very much afraid that is what Hammerstein is doing right now."

"You may be right. But if all of this is true, why haven't you exposed her already?"

"Who would I go to? Apart from the fact that the USM is under strict orders not to interfere in the electoral process, no crime has been committed. There is nothing to report and no-one to report it to. I suppose I could leak it to the press, but then what? Most networks won't touch anything that takes more than thirty seconds to explain on screen, and the few that might be willing to bring it out would be snowed under. Besides, again, what is there to tell? Hammerstein and the few other delegates that are involved in this little scheme have done nothing wrong. Hammerstein's simply guiding the debate, making sure all opinions are heard, as is her duty. Her secondary motives may be less noble, but there is no way to prove it. The offers of support made by the others to the colonial representatives are morally ambiguous but I doubt we could prove criminal intent, and even if we could, it would take too long. No, if we want to take down Hammerstein, we'll need something a lot simpler and juicier than an' if-this-than-that' kind of intelligence analysis." Harper lifted the glass he had been holding and emptied it in a single gulp."Besides, what would the effect be, even if I succeeded? If Hammerstein falls, so does her coalition. The Assembly would be in chaos, just when we cannot afford it."

"Then why contact me?"

"Because, general, you can do things that I cannot. I may -may!- be able to get Hammerstein out of the way, but I cannot fill the power vacuum that she would leave behind. You can."

Now it was Spears' turn to empty his glass in a single gulp.

"You aren't seriously suggesting...?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, general. I'm simply describing the situation." Harper put his glass down. "Thanks for the drink, general. It was nice talking to you. If you want to continue this discussion, you'll be able to contact me at the same number I've been calling your office from. Just do me a favour: be careful what you say out loud."

* * *

**July 31, 2228 Human reckoning**

**The Citadel, Presidium**

There were three people in the room. One turian, one asari and one salarian. Together they represented the dominant species in citadel space. In theory, they were the most powerful individuals in the galaxy. In practice...

"Well, Sparatus, you said you had news. I hope it is better than what we have seen so far," councillor Milnori, the salarian, said. He was still somewhat annoyed that he had been the last to hear of the recent developments near Relay 314.

"Hardly." Sparatus stared morosely out of the window. the view across the presidium was quite beautiful, but he was not in the mood to appreciate it. "I just received a message from Primarch Fedorian. He has been in discussion with a general Desolas Arterius."

Councillor Tevos looked up. The name seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. It was one of the drawbacks of the asari's thousand year lifespan. After a while, you simply met too many people to remember them all. "I believe I've heard that name before."

Sparatus turned around and nodded. "I'm not surprised. General Arterius is quite well known. He's very active in politics. In fact..." he hesitated. "... Desolas was one of my closest supporters when I made my bid to become Primarch."

"I see. How exactly is this general Arterius involve din the current situation?"

"He commands all forces in the Aephus district. His command lies directly in the path of these humans if they decide to come looking for us."

"I take it the general is not pleased about that?"

Sparatus seemed to smirk a bit.

"Actually, I suspect that he is quite happy about it. It had given him the perfect opportunity to draw attention to himself. Unfortunately, the way he chose to do it is rather drastic. Arterius has presented a plan to the Primarch - and gained his approval - to solve the current crisis."

Tevos sighed. "I have the feeling I'm not going to like this."

"I'm quite sure you won't. Arterius has taken the forces under his command to Relay 288. He's going to invade the humans' space and occupy one of their systems."

"What?!" Both Tevos and Milnori sounded about equally horrified, though centuries of diplomatic experience had given Tevos somewhat better self-control.

Sparatus nodded. "That was my initial response as well. We still know very little about this species. Invading now, without a much clearer understanding of their strengths could be disastrous. However, general Arterius makes a very strong case. Take a look:"

He activated a display and a star map appeared above the central table.

"This is the relevant sector of space. There are three relays: Relay 288, which is under our control; Relay 314, a dormant primary relay, which is what sparked this confrontation; and a third relay, which we have only just discovered. It's a secondary relay in a system that is occupied by these humans. In fact, it contains a garden world that hold a human colony."

"A colony?" Milnori aksed. "Not their homeworld?"

"We should be so lucky! No, it doesn't have nearly the level of development to be any species' homeworld. The scouts could not get close to the planet, but they estimate a population of a few million."

"And this new relay," Tevos asked. "Does it connect to any relay we know off?"

"No. That is what makes the situation so unique. There are two secondary relays within less than a week of travelling, but they don't interconnect. We can only assume that this new relay connects deeper into human territory. In fact, it is most likely the reason they are here at all. None of the nearby systems shows any sign of occupation. They must have come from through that relay."

"And found a garden-world ready for them. Quite a bit of good luck. Still, that doesn't explain why this general Arterius suddenly believes an invasion is a good idea."

"I was getting to that, Milnori. The point is, that we basically have a natural border, created by these two relays, with a stretch of no-man's land in between. General Arterius argues that unless we act now, we'll be faced with a stalemate, which can turn very bloody in the long run. He envisions a situation where both the humans and ourselves keep sending ships through the relays into this one area of space. Losses on both sides would increase steadily, with neither side gaining a decisive advantage."

"So, he wants to act immediately, gain the upper hand right away."

"Exactly. The humans have been doing some reconnaissance around Relay 288 and managed to send a number of unmanned probes through, but that is all, and the human system seems to be only lightly defended. If we can seize it before they bring up reinforcements, we can stop them at their relay if they try to counter attack. We'd effectively lock the humans up inside their own territory while at the same time occupying a valuable colony. Under those circumstances, Desolas argues, the humans would have no choice but to open negotiations."

Tevos studied the turian closely, trying to gain some insight into his thoughts. "What about you, Sparatus? You seem less than enthusiastic."

"I think his reasoning for blocking that relay is sound, at least from a military point of view. Seizing the planet, though, that is a different story. It's a huge escalation. If we were going to send a diplomatic party now, we could excuse what had happened so far as a series of unfortunate incidents. Even sending a fleet into their territory can still be explained as a preventive measure, rather than an outright attack. But invading a planet? That is not something you do by accident. If the humans decide not to take that lying down, we'd be looking at exactly the kind of all-out warfare that this plan is supposed to prevent. Yes, the system seems understrength, but there may be other reasons for that than we think. They may have the strength to retake the system, even after Arterius occupies it. If that happens we'll take massive losses, and we'll be facing an enraged species, of unknown strength and capabilities, with absolutely no reason to trust us, or even talk to us."

"I agree. But apparently, general Arterius thinks otherwise?"

Sparatus made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "I'm not sure what Desolas thinks, but I have a suspicion." He hesitated, seemingly in doubt as to whether he should continue. "Look. I don't like saying this, but I don't trust Desolas. He didn't support me because of any personal liking, or because he approved so much of my policies, but because he thought the could use me to elevate him to the top of the Hierarchy. If I became primarch with his support, he figured he'd be in a perfect position to become my successor thirty or so years from now. But that didn't happen. I have the feeling that he is now trying a different approach. There is no way he could have gotten an invasion force together in a few days. He must have been preparing this from the moment he read the first report. Now he's managed to convince Fedorian that this plan is workable; or at least Fedorian prefers to think of it that way. Maybe he just hopes to gain Desolas' support in case he needs it later on. It doesn't really matter anyway. What matters is, that if this plan works, the star of one general Arterius will rise. In the end, that is all he cares about, no matter what he may be telling the primarch; or even himself."

**-o-o-o  
**

There had been silence ever since Sparatus' last statement, while the councillors tried to come to terms with the situation.

"We have to stop this," Tevos said slowly. "We have to! Even in the best case scenario, this general Arterius will be committing a blatantly unethical act that goes against everything we stand for. In the worst case, we'd be looking at another Rachni War."

"I agree!"

"Really?" Sparatus looked at his fellow councillors. "And what do you suggest? Perhaps I should call the Primarch; let him know we disapprove of Desolas' brainchild and tell him to call back a fleet that has already be dispatched. How do you think Fedorian would react?"

There was silence. Both Tevos and Milnori knew exactly what their turian colleague meant. There was no way a turian primarch, especially a relatively young and newly appointed one, would accept such a challenge to his authority. And if he refused to obey the dictates from the council, then what? It was a question that should have been asked the moment that their distant predecessors had handed the responsibility of guarding citadel space over to the turian hierarchy, but at the time people had either overlooked it or chosen to ignore it. Ever since that time, successive generations of councillors had carefully avoided any situation that might put the loyalty of the turian peacekeeping fleet to the test.

"You're right, unfortunately." Tevos tried to keep the resentment out of her voice but knew she was only partially succeeding. "So, what do you suggest, Sparatus? Shall we just stand back and let it happen? Perhaps we should just advertise to the entire galaxy that the Primarch can do whatever he wants and that this council is powerless to stop him!"

"No. We wait. It's the only thing we can do, right now." Sparatus sat down in one of the chairs and looked at his two colleagues. "Right now, if we try to stop the invasion, Fedorian would overrule us. From that moment on, we lose all ability to influence events. But if we go along, for the moment, and let him go ahead, we may still get an opportunity to interfere. At the very least, we'll be able to influence the peacetalks, if Desolas' plan works out."

Neither Tevos not Milnori seemed very pleased with the prospect, but neither did they come with a better proposal.

"I know, " Sparatus continued. "I don't like it either, but right now, I think it's the only option we have."

* * *

**August 1, 2228 Human reckoning**

**Relay 288**

After Glaive had departed for Shanxi in order to make repairs, USM Dagger and her remaining companion had remained in the outer reaches of the system, waiting for the probes to return. So far, only one had made it back and that one had been destroyed almost immediately by the alien fighter patrol. Still, it had managed to send out a short transmission containing the locations of the relays it had encountered on its short journey. That alone made it worth the effort. Other than that one event, the relay had been quiet. Now things changed.

As commander Farnsworth and her crew watched through the eyes of their remote drones, the relay activated and a group of ships appeared; then another group; and another.

When the drones reported that the relay had finally gone quiet there was a moment of absolute silence on the frigate's bridge.

"Well," Farnsworth remarked at last. "I suppose we shouldn't be too surprised."

She straightened her shoulders.

"Send a message to USM Mace:

'Inform general Williams at Shanxi: enemy forces are approaching.

Number: at least 50 warships plus support group.

Including at least two carrier sized vessels.

Copy to USM headquarters at Arcturus and to admiral van Buren.

Dagger will remain and shadow the enemy fleet.'

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A/N:**

**Obviously the position of the council is far less secure here than it is in canon. Partially I'm doing this to explain why the council doesn't interfere at this stage (other than that they are either evil or oblivious), but it is also a more general issue for me: exactly what can the council do if the turians tell them to get lost? They don't have the military strength to enforce their orders. They might be able to retaliate economically, but that would take time. Besides, all the economies are so interwoven, that such retaliation would harm all species, especially with the Volus holding the key to the financial system. In any case, having the power of the council be `more show than substance' does not make that much of a practical difference. After all, in three games they never accomplished anything anyway. It may also help explain other things, such as why they never acted against the geth or the batarians.**

**Thedus is a colony from the Alien canon (it was the point of departure for Nostromo).**


	11. The road to hell

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Geneva, earth**

"Absolutely not, general. The democratic process cannot be hastened or cut short. That would rob it of its very purpose. I'm astonished that you would even suggest such a thing. Do I need to remind you that the United Systems Military has no vote in the Assembly? This is a civilian matter, not a military one."

Spears' anger was near the boiling point. Five days! It had taken five days before Hammerstein had finally deigned to speak with him; and what had he been waiting for? The same load of mealy-mouthed sanctimonious crap. Still, it had not been a complete waste of time. Spears had used the delay to speak quietly with several of the colonial delegates in a faint hope that Harper might have been lying. Unfortunately, it turned out that the man was on the level, at least in that respect. Two of the delegates confirmed that they had been approached with offers of military protection for their planets, offers that had seemed to be conditional on certain 'minor' political and economic concessions. A third delegate had denied receiving such an offer, but something about the man's behaviour had roused Spears' suspicion and a quiet word with one of the representative's aides had confirmed that there had been several unscheduled, and unexplained, visits from other Assembly members. In a way, this was actually more worrisome, because the representatives' vehement denials seemed to indicate that not only had he been approached, but he might already have accepted such a deal.

"No, madam chairwoman. You don't need to remind me. I have had ample time to study the constitutional process, while you wasted weeks of precious time. However, I doubt that the constitution was intended as a suicide pact. This situation calls for immediate action. Not endless debate."

"Are we then to set aside our democratic principles, general? No, all opinions must be heard and be taken into consideration, before such a momentous decision can be taken."

"And in the mean-time we lose Shanxi, and with it all strategic advantage."

"So you say, general, but frankly, I see no evidence of an immediate invasion. These aliens are looking for us, certainly, just as I'm sure the United Systems Military is looking for them. Does that mean that you intend to invade them? I certainly hope not."

"With all due respect, ms. Hammerstein, that is pure wishful thinking. We cannot simply sit back and hope for the best."

"And with all due respect, general, it is exactly that kind of thinking that has put us in this situation. If your officers had been a bit less inclined to assume the worst-"

"Are you suggesting," Spears snarled. "that the navy is somehow to blame for the blatantly unprovoked attack on Auriga and her escorts?"

"Not at all, general. Not at all." Hammerstein seemed to realize that she had pushed the general too far. "However, I AM suggesting, that the military seems rather over-inclined to interpret every move these aliens make as proof of hostile intent. Perhaps, general it would behove you to sit back and look over the events of the past weeks again. You might find yourself looking at a picture that is less dark and gloomy than you think."

It was all Spears could do to stop himself from reaching across the desk and ripping Hammerstein's throat out. The temptation was terrible. Although he wasn't getting any younger, Spears had kept himself in good shape and he had no doubt that he could take the civilian down without too much effort; almost certainly before security could enter the room and stop him. Unfortunately, it wouldn't serve any purpose other than temporary personal gratification. Harper had been right about that. Simply getting rid of Hammerstein would not be enough.

"I hope you're right, ms. Hammerstein," he said as he rose from his chair. "I sincerely hope so. For if you're wrong, all of humanity will pay the price."

Without another word, he stalked from the office.

**-o-o-o-**

Spears was still fuming on the way home._ Politicians; ALWAYS politicians. First, they hand the government over to the corporations because they're too busy posturing for the cameras to do their jobs. We give control back to them on a silver platter and what do they do? Now they're going to hand it over to a bunch of aliens! We lost thousands of soldiers and countless civilians the last time. How many will it cost to regain our freedom if we lose it again? _That was not going to happen, not on his watch. He reached for his communicator and typed in a long string of numbers.

"This is Spears. I wish to speak to Mr. Harper."

**-o-o-o-**

This time they met in a small park. Spears has changed into civilian clothes for the occasion and Harper was as anonymous as always in his brown and grey suit. The two men blended perfectly in with the mass of local people on lunch break.

"Alright, Harper. Let's assume for the moment that I believe you about Hammerstein. You implied that you had a way to fix this. Let's hear it"

Harper smiled briefly. "You're very direct, general. Well, I suppose it saves time. Unfortunately, I have only half the solution. Yes, I can deal with Hammerstein, but simply removing her from office, or exposing her little game won't be enough. First of all, she needs to go down hard. So hard, that there can be no recovery for her, or any of her cronies. Second, we need someone to take over; to fill the power vacuum she leaves behind. The last thing we need is the sort of chaos that follows a breakdown in government. Now, I can do the first thing, but I cannot achieve the second. That requires a public figure, a leader; Someone strong, respected. Someone who can give the people the confidence they need to face an alien invasion. Someone like you."

Spears hesitated. Harper was right, of course, but to put something like this into words... Still, things couldn't go on as they had.

"Keep talking."

"For this to work, I need three things, general."

"Name them."

"First, I need money. We cannot use her actual motive to expose her. Too many people here on earth would agree with her goals, if not her methods. We need something simple, something that everybody can understand, and that everybody would be horrified about. Greed is such a motive, but for that to work, there has to be actual money that we can point to and say: ' that is why she did it'. Can you get your hands on a sum of money?"

Spears nodded. "There are some discretionary funds I can tap. I would have to do it carefully, to make sure there is no paper trail, but it can be done. What else?"

Second, I need you to speak up, to denounce Hammerstein and her cronies, so that you will be well positioned to take over once she is gone. And third, I need you to draw Hammerstein out. Get her to make a public statement, no matter how mild, that supports the current delays."

"What?!" Spears hadn't thought anything would shock him by now, but this... "Are you out of your mind? The moment I speak out publicly again Hammerstein I'll be history. The USM commander in chief serves at the pleasure of the Assembly. Hammerstein will have me fired and replaced by someone more tractable."

"Not that easily, general." Harper seemed unperturbed by Spears' outburst. "She'd need a two-third majority to have you fired. That would take time to arrange, even for her, especially since firing the commander in chief in the middle of a military crisis would be a very stupid idea. Besides, once I take care of Hammerstein, she won't be firing anybody."

"You mean: IF you take care of her."

"Oh, you can trust me on that, general. As I told you before, I'm very good at my job."

Spears knew he was being backed into a corner and didn't like it one bit. If this plan was put into motion he would be in the spotlight, taking the full brunt of a political shitstorm, while Harper stayed in the shadows. And if Harper failed to deliver, Spears' career would be over and nothing would be gained.  
He would never know what his decision would have been if his communicator had not chosen that moment to start buzzing. One look at the screen told him enough and made the decision, perhaps the most momentous of his life for him.

"It seems, Mr. Harper, that events have overtaken us."

"Is that so general?"

Spears nodded. "This is a priority message from Arcturus. An alien fleet has just come through the newly discovered relay and is moving toward Shanxi."

* * *

**USM Ark Royal, Arcturus**

From the bridge of her flagship, admiral Drescher watched as wave after wave of fighters surged forward, swarming out to envelope the enemy formation. Half a dozen destroyers, screened by an equal number of frigates awaited the onslaught. Simulated point defence lasers lashed out at the fighter squadrons, scoring simulated hits that resulted in simulated kills. It was not enough. Although nearly a score of the attacking fighters was ruled destroyed and had to abandon the exercise, the remainder closed in, their combined ECM overwhelming the hostile defences. The first wave, comprised exclusively of SA-23 Starfuries closed to knife range, using their mass accelerators to strafe the hulls of their targets, destroying sensors and point defence emplacements. They were followed by a second wave, half Starfuries, half F-302 strike fighters. The Starfuries followed the example of their predecessors, closing to within effective range of their onboard weapons. The F-302s stood off at a distance and launched a massive volley of missiles into targets whose point defence had been severely compromised. Within seconds the engagement was over, with most of the destroyers dead in space.

Admiral Drescher turned toward her chief of staff. "It worked."

"Yes, admiral, though, if I may say so-"

"It wasn't a very realistic exercise. I know. No hostile fighters and a small number of targets. That wasn't the point. The point defence came as close to emulating the alien weapons and targeting systems as we can make based on admiral van Buren's reports. Now the pilots know that their ECM can defeat it. God knows they needed the moral boost."

By now the victorious fighter squadrons were on their way back. Soon, Ark Royal would commence the recovery operation. Nearby her fellow carriers Enterprise and Yamato would do the same. There should have been a fourth carrier, but Constellation had been exempted from the exercise in order to allow her pilots, many of whom had only had their reserve status activated a few days before, to practice launch and recovery operations.

"Next, we'll put some of the Arcturus base fighters aboard an auxiliary carrier. Give the destroyers some extra cover and add a new element to the exercise."

Second Fleet had reason to be proud. Despite the fact that nearly half its strength had been in reserve, as little as three weeks earlier, it was shaping up well. Unfortunately, that wouldn't matter as long as they were stuck at Arcturus.

* * *

**USM Osawa, Shanxi**

All six destroyers of the local defence force were concentrated once again at Shanxi. Although admiral van Buren would have preferred engaging the enemy in an uninhabited system, that was no longer an option. The alien fleet was too strong for his ships to attack them alone. He would need every bit of extra firepower that Shanxi could provide him.  
Van Buren smiled grimly as he thought about the situation. The local navy detachment had performed a small miracle, getting the fighter squadron in fighting condition and deploying the new orbital defences. The latter were still not fully operational and from a bridge window aboard his flagship van Buren could see half a dozen shuttle manoeuvring in orbit to deploy one of the last pieces. The whole thing was completely improvised and had been dreamed up by junior officers during his absence. Never too proud to borrow a good idea, van Buren had set out to improve on the original concept and had taken it from a dubious, if well meant, scheme to something truly vicious.  
Unfortunately, the reality was that nothing in Shanxi could stop the armada that was coming for them. This was all the more galling because everyone knew that the full might of second fleet was waiting at Arcturus, just one relay jump away. It seemed utterly ridiculous that the understrength forces at Shanxi would be called upon to fight and die, in a vain effort to stop an overwhelming enemy force, while plenty of reinforcements were within striking distance, held back only by political stonewalling. Still, at least they could make sure the aliens paid a steep price for their attack, if he could put his own defence plan into action.

* * *

**HNV Righteous Fury, between Relay 288 and Shanxi**

Daraya Sandis watched from the observation lounge of the turian flagship as one ship after another discharged its drive core in a local gas giant. It was a spectacular sight and normally she would have been thrilled to be able to observe it. After all, it was not every day that an asari liaison was asked to accompany the turian fleet.  
However, Daraya was far from happy with the way things had gone. As one of several asari working at the Aephus shipyard she had been quite excited about facilitating the turian efforts to communicate with their prisoners. Initiating communications with a new species had been a fascinating challenge and her success had made her the logical team leader for the group that had set out to create the required translation software that the turians would need in order to open diplomatic relations. This, in turn, had led general Desolas Arterius to request her presence aboard his flagship as he set out on what he called: `an effort to defuse the current tensions and initiate peaceful negotiations'. It wasn't until she came aboard the Righteous Fury that she realized that she had, in fact, been drafted into an invasion force.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Daraya turned around. General Arterius had entered the observation lounge and was watching the progress of his fleet with obvious appreciation.

"Impressive, yes, general. However, I cannot help but worry about the KIND of impression that this display of firepower is going to make on the humans."

"One of strength and resolve, I would think. At least, I sincerely hope so, for that would mean that we can end this tragic misunderstanding without the need for additional violence."

"And if the humans decide that they need to show an equal amount of uhm, strength and resolve?"

The generals facial plates twitched in the turian equivalent of a smile. "Unlikely. Our scouts have observed their colony for a while now and all agree that they lack the necessary firepower."

Daraya didn't consider that news to be very comforting. "But that is only one colony, isn't it, general? Wouldn't it have been better to wait until you had a more complete picture of their strength?"

"Perhaps," general Arterius conceded. "but time is of the essence here. Already there have been several engagements between our forces and the humans. Each encounter costs additional lives. Besides, the latest developments are most worrying. The humans released a number of uncrewed craft through Relay 288 into citadel space. When we combine that data with the reports of possible A.I. use by human warships, we're looking at a potential disaster."

This was a rather sore point for Dayala. Ever since she had started working on the communication project the turians had been pressing her to interrogate the human prisoners about the use of artificial intelligence. She had tried to do so and the result had been rather embarrassing.

"As I have stated before, general, there is no evidence whatsoever to support this 'A.I.-threat' you keep bringing up. In fact, when I questioned the humans on that subject they didn't even understand me at first; and when they did, they thought I was making a joke; and when they realized I was sincere, they just thought I was insane."

"Perhaps. But then again, the prisoners were of insufficient rank and may not have been fully aware of the scope of the technology used in such devices. Or perhaps, they were simply under orders to keep it secret. Either way, I'm sure you would agree that even the chance of A.I.-controlled drones flying around citadel space is not something to be taken lightly. We need to know for sure, sooner rather than later. That is why we are here. To open communications, so that we can get the answers we need and put the matter to rest, one way or another."

"I see. I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, general Arterius, but does one truly need three dreadnoughts, more than twenty cruisers -not to mention a similar number of smaller ships- and forty-thousand soldiers to 'open communications'?"

"Perhaps not," the general conceded. "That really depends on the kind of response these humans make to our presence. Still, in my personal experience, it is always preferable to bring too much, rather than not enough firepower."

With a final look through the observation window, the general left the room, leaving Daraya to contemplate the future.

**-o-o-o-**

As the turian fleet discharged its drive cores and made ready to leave the system for the final part of its journey, two ships observed it from a respectful distance. One of these was well known to the turians. It was small frigate of salarian design and had followed the turians ever since they had departed from the Aephus shipyard. The turians had so far ignored the small vessel and the salarian crew had been quite happy to be ignored. No turian officer enjoyed having observers from the salarian STG along for the ride, but they tended to see it as a necessary evil. If they asked the salarians to depart, the small vessel would undoubtedly leave, only to be replaced by a ship that the turians had not spotted, and most turians would agree that an STG team that you could see was always to be preferred over one that you could not.

The second ship was of a different sort altogether and neither the turians nor the crew of the STG vessel were aware of its presence. Cloaked in a stealth field that none of the citadel races could hope to penetrate, it had been lying in wait for the turian fleet that had been expected to pass through the system sooner or later. Aboard this vessel other beings studied the turian fleet with cold, calculating eyes.

"So, they're finally making their move."

"Yes, and rather heavy handed, as usual."

The first speaker laughed, a rattling sound that echoed through the cavernous control room of the ship. "Turians are not exactly known for their subtlety."

"No, still, their methods are fairly successful. It will be interesting to see what they plan to do, once they reach the human colony. From the presence of the troop transports it would seem that they plan to land on the planet. Watching the hierarchy's regiments take on the human marines should be quite amusing."

"Quite so. Besides, it may give us the opportunity we have been looking for. In the chaos of an invasion we may be able to penetrate the research facility undetected. We'll follow the turians to their destination. If we're fortunate we'll be able to put a hunting party planetside and retrieve what we want. If not, well, as you said, at the very least it should be entertaining to watch."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Regarding ships' names: I'm messing around a bit with the turian ships. After all, it's an alien language so anything I name them will be a translation, and we don't know how such names would actually work out in turian language. For human ships I'm trying to be consistent, so right now all frigates are named after hand-to-hand weapons, the Rapid Deployment Vessels's after real amphibious operations, and the destroyers after famous naval officers. For the carriers it's a little different. I'm giving them the names of famous historical warships, irrespective of the kind of ship that they were originally named for, so their names will be a bit of a mixed bag.**


	12. Making an entrance

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Geneva, earth**

"General, general Spears! Is it true that earth is about to be invaded?"

Spears ignored the calls form the assembled reporters. They were just so much noise. Stupid, uninformed noise at that. In any case, he had to concentrate. It wasn't the first press conference he had given, not by a long shot, but it was certainly the most important one of his career as well as the most complicated. Several of his aides had worked through the night to put it together, even as a few junior officers spread the rumor of imminent invasion. It had been a delicate balancing act for everyone: make enough noise to get the press to pay attention, but not so much to cause outright panic.  
Of course it hadn't helped that Spears had been unable to tell his people the whole story for fear of potential leaks. As far as they were concerned their boss was about to make a desperate plea to the general public in an attempt to put pressure on the delegates in the United Systems Assembly. In fact, some of them had actively argued against it on the grounds that it would be futile and highly damaging to Spears' position.  
The content of his presentation had to be carefully weighed. Whatever Harper might be planning, Spears didn't intend to play lightning rod for the man. Despite some discrete inquiries he still hadn't managed to find out exactly what Harper's position in the intelligence community entailed, or what his duty assignment was. Spears had to take into account the possibility that Harper would turn out to be a agent provocateur, working for Hammerstein or one of her cronies. If so, his entire purpose might be to trick Spears into speaking out too loudly, giving Hammerstein the opportunity to rid herself of the troublesome general.

The presentation started rather simple as Spears went through the highlights of recent events. It was necessary to bring the reporters up to speed, because so far the information that had been released to the public had been rather limited; lots of speculation about the alien lifeforms, but very few real facts as Hammerstein and her friends in the Assembly tried to underplay the alien threat. Now it was time to change that and Spears painted a bleak picture as he described the unprovoked attack on USM Auriga and her escorts and the loss of Gallipoli and Bomarsund. Then came the counterstroke as admiral van Buren's squadron annihilated the alien aggressors, followed by the scouting missions, and culminating in the news that a massive armada of alien warships was now on its way.  
"Even as we speak, an alien fleet is approaching Shanxi. They outnumber the local defense force by approximately ten-to-one. Our planning has always taken this into account. As far as the USM was concerned there was no need for a stronger fleet presence at Shanxi, because reinforcements could be brought in quickly from Arcturus."  
He pressed a button his console and a bright green line appeared connecting the two relays.  
"The moment that the alien force arrives as Shanxi, a message will be sent through the relay, alerting Arcturus headquarters. Within an hour, admiral Drescher's second fleet can redeploy to Shanxi, with sufficient firepower to drive off the invaders. However..." Here Spears paused briefly. "... admiral Drescher cannot move second fleet away from Arcturus without special permission from the Assembly. Permission, which has not been granted. That, ladies and gentleman is the primary obstacle to an effective defense of Shanxi and it spells disaster; not just for the Shanxi defense force, or the millions of defenseless civilians on the planet, but for humanity as a whole."  
He paused again to let his words sink in.  
"Without reinforcements, Shanxi will inevitably fall to the enemy and with it the local relay. That will change the situation completely." He pressed the button again and the green line was replaced by a red one. "Not only can the aliens strike directly at Arcturus, but there is an additional danger as well."  
Another touch on the button and another line appeared, reaching out from Shanxi, to a spot further along the border of human space.  
"The second connection of the Shanxi relay is within a week travel time of our colony at Thedus. As you can see, the Shanxi relay is the key to our security, not just in the colonies, but here on earth as well. As long as we hold it, it creates a choke-point that allows us to contain the alien menace. However, should Shanxi fall to the enemy, that same relay will grant the aliens multiple access points to the rest of human space. Should that occur, humanity will be facing disaster. The United Systems Military simply doesn't have sufficient resources to defend on two fronts. While second fleet is certainly capable of keeping our front door closed at Arcturus, the back door at Thedus has been left wide open. Should the aliens chose to utilize it, they will be able to overrun no less than six mining colonies that are crucial to our economy, and from there they will be able to reach earth within two weeks. When that happens, the next battle will be fought here, in our home system, and only first fleet will be standing between humanity and utter destruction."  
Spears paused again. "Ladies and gentleman, this is why we MUST act; why we must defend Shanxi with every ship and every soldier available. This is why we can no longer wait while politicians in the Assembly engage in endless debate. Humanity stands on the edge of a cliff and it's crumbling beneath us and we're wasting what little time we have left by talking."

"General!" Most of the assembled reporters had their hands in the air and were shouting questions. If nothing else, at least Spears had managed to get their attention. He picked one out, more or less at random.

"General, surely chairwoman Hammerstein and the other delegates are well aware of this situation. If what you say is true, what possible reason could they have to endanger humanity?"

Spears carefully kept his face in the same 'earnest and concerned' expression that he had worn throughout his presentation. He had hoped to delay this particular question at least for a little while.

"I cannot judge the chairwoman's motives, only the results of her actions. The truth is, that ms Hammerstein is confronted with a crisis that is so far beyond her experience that she seems incapable of dealing with it. That is not her fault. However, she should listen to those of us who have the necessary experience. That is the duty of all leaders when they find themselves out of their depth."

It was the compromise that his staff had worked out when they wrote his speech and planned the press conference. He wouldn't attack Hammerstein directly, would not accuse her of corruption. Instead, he would take the 'in sorrow rather than in anger approach', using her lack of military experience as a way to undermine her with hints of incompetence. It was not perfect, but it allowed him to engage her without committing to an open attack. Whether Hammerstein would take the bait, only time would tell.

"But general," another reporter this time. "Under the constitution, the military is subordinate to the civilian government. Are you suggesting, that the military should be able to overrule the Assembly?"

That was not at all, what Spears had said, but it was certainly at the back of his mind. He had never been a great admirer of the way the United Systems was being governed and recent events had done little to change his opinion. He decided to push a little further.

"The constitution is not a suicide pact. The rule of civilian oversight exists to stop the United Systems Military from seizing control of the government, not to hamstring the USM as it tries to defend humanity against alien invaders.

"General!"

The questions continued.

* * *

**Shanxi**

One moment, all was quiet, the next, all hell broke loose. Aboard the warships defending Shanxi alarm sirens started screaming as a massive formation of warships entered the system in a flawless simultaneous FTL transit.

**HNV Righteous Fury**

"Well, here we are."

General Arterius studied his tactical display. He had chosen to come out of FTL in the outer reaches of the star system, then proceed in-system at sub-light speed. It meant the loss of any element of surprise, but that mattered little considering the expected disparity in force. It would also allow the turians to retreat from the system, if the humans had brought in significant reinforcements. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it would give the defenders a good look at the massive amount of firepower arrayed against them, giving them them the opportunity to either flee, or surrender, granting the turians a bloodless victory.

One of the sensor techs spoke up. "No sign of reinforcements, admiral. Enemy numbers correspond to the latest reconnaisance data."

"Good. Is the translation software operational?"

"Yes admiral."

"Then give me an open communication channel. Let's find out if these people are willing to be reasonable." He activated his transmission link.

"This is general Desolas Arteriusm, representing the turian hierarchy and the races of the citadel council. I have come here to take control of this system and call upon all military forces to lay down their weapons and surrender. This is your only warning. Any attempt at resistance will be met with lethal and overwhelming force."

**USM Osawa**

"What the...? How the hell did they learn our language?"

"Uncertain, sir" Captain Shen looked at the transcription of the message. It was poorly phrased, but perfectly understandable. "They may have intercepted enough transmissions to be able to translate. Or perhaps..." He hesitated.

"Well, spit it out."

"Admiral, we know that Gallipoli was destroyed with all hands, but according to Auriga's logs, Bomarsund wasn't. They may have taken prisoners."

"And gotten them to talk." Van Buren nodded. "It's possible, though that would mean they achieved a lot more than we did with our own prisoners. According to the latest news from Arcturus, we're still struggling to feed them, let alone speak." He shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, how they managed it. At least it will make things a little easier. Let's see if they can listen, as well as speak. Give me an open transmission line. Same frequency."

Van Buren waited until his display showed that he could transmit live.

"This is rear-admiral van Buren, commanding officer of the Shanxi space defense forces, to approaching fleet. You have violated Shanxi system space as well as the territory of the United Systems. Leave immediately, or you will be fired upon."

Brave words, but even as he spoke them, van Buren knew, just how empty they were. His squadron was moving in position between Shanxi and the approaching fleet, but the six destroyers were a pathetically small force to stop the approaching juggernaut and neither the frigates that were scattered around the system, nor the rapid deployment vessels in orbit around the planet would contribute significantly to the balance of force. The alien armada counted approximately fifty ships, not including a the transports that were lagging behind the main force. In the vanguard of the alien formation were three massive vessels, similar in size to the USM's fleet carriers. Approximately twenty destroyer-sized ships were deployed around them with an equal number of frigates interspaced within the formation. It was a formidable sight, a solid wall of firepower that was moving steadily toward the small defensive force.

**HNV Righteous Fury**

"..To depart from here, at this moment, if not, shots will be aimed at you."

The translation was awkward, but sufficient to convey the meaning of the alien words.

"Well, " Desolas said thoughtfully. "I suppose it was too much to hope for that they would be sensible. Still, I suppose it would not hurt to try again. At least now we know that the translation software works correctly. He activated the transmission again.

"To the defenders of this star system. You cannot hope to defeat the forces arrayed against you. Know, that it is not the wish of the hierarchy to engage in pointless slaughter, but simply to bring an end to this conflict. Surrender now, so that we can work toward a peaceful resolution."

**USM Osawa**

"He's brings a fleet to invade us, orders us to surrender or we will be destroyed, but he still wants us to believe that he comes in peace?" captain Shen asked disbelievingly. "Is this guy stupid, or does he think we are?"

"Perhaps," van Buren shrugged. "or perhaps it makes sense to him because he is an alien. Either way, that's not how this is going down. Contact the base and tell them to launch every fighter they have. We're only going to get one shot at this, so let's make sure it counts. Tell them to copy the signal to Arcturus command and wait for a response. If second fleet will not deploy, the station must evacuate immediately. In that case all surviving fighters will retreat through the relay after their strike."

It was the plan that they had worked out in advance, a compromise to preserve as much of Shanxi's naval forces as they could without abandoning the planet completely. The full weight of Shanxi's five fighter squadrons would be brought to bear in a single massive strike before van Buren's destroyers came within range of the enemy. If there was a reasonable chance of reinforcements arriving in time from Arcturus, the fighters would return to the station and rearm. If not, they would continue on to the relay that was positioned on the far side of the planet, and fall back to Arcturus. The remaining personnel on the station, no more than a skeleton crew would embark on the Radid Deployment Vessels and transports and follow them, with the destroyers acting as rearguard.  
To the untrained eye, the tactical situation seemed ideal for such a retreat. The alien fleet, van Buren's squadron, Shanxi with its orbital base, and the mass relay were stretched out almost perfectly along a single line, with the aliens on one end and the relay on the other. It would seem as though the base personnel could evacuate and run for the relay while van Buren's destroyers brought up the rear. The aliens would first have to overtake them, then fight their way past the destroyers, before they could engage the transports.  
Unfortunately, the reality was slightly different. In order to use the relay, the fleeing ships would have to decelerate, while the pursuers, unconcerned with matching speed with the mass relay could keep accelerating. As a result, they would overtake the fleeing ships well short of the relay, firing their spinal mass accelerators as they closed. The result would be a slaughter, unless they either evacuated the base well in advance, abandoning the planet ahead of time and throwing away whatever chance hey had to strike back, or van Buren managed to inflict enough damage that the aliens would have to slow down their pursuit. The first option was politically unacceptable and the latter was unlikely in the extreme considering the difference in firepower between the two forces.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Righteous Fury**

"General Arterius! The orbital base has deployed fighters. Approximately fifty, no sixty in total. They are accelerating toward us, moving past the warships."

"Deploy our own fighters, but keep them close to the fleet. Then order the frigates to move forward."

The fighter complements of individual turian warships was not large, but between twenty cruisers and three dreadnought, they could field more than three times as many fighters as the humans had launched. Still, so far they had no knowledge whatsoever of the capabilities of the human craft, nor their pilots, and Desolas was reluctant to risk losses. If the humans insisted on contending the planet itself, his fighters would be needed for ground support.

**USM Osawa**

"Sir, the station has started evacuation procedures. They estimate three hours until the last transport departs."

"I see." It had not come as a surprise, but even so it was an ugly moment. The news from Arcturus had been very clear. No permission had been granted to move second fleet, and without that permission admiral Drescher would not move to reinforce Shanxi. Intellectually, van Buren understood. For officers to disobey orders and 'do what was right' made for great movies and television drama. In reality it usually led to complete chaos that merely aggravated the problem, stopped the military organization in its tracks, and ultimately achieved nothing. Still, that was the theory. Experiencing this form of betrayal in practice was a different story and van Buren could only hope that someday the USM Navy would be able to redeem the honor and pride that was lost this day.

As he watched, the fighter squadrons streamed past his small flotilla, two squadrons of Starfuries to open the way, followed by two more squadrons of F-302s to do the actual damage and finally, one more Starfury squadron to guard their backs. By any standard it was a powerful strike force, but against the alien, or turian as they apperently called themselves, fleet it looked rather underwhelming. As van Buren studied the plot, the alien formation changed. They were advancing on his position in cone-like formation with the three massive ships at the point and the smaller, destroyer-like ships that he had encountered before, all around them but somewhat behind them. Now a group of about twenty frigates that had initially been behind the larger ships moved forward, interposing themselves between the larger ship sand the oncoming fighters. Meanwhile large numbers of fighters were deploying throughout the alien formation.

"So, they do carry their own fighters."

"Yes sir" Captain Shen was watching the same plot. "the fighters are launched in small groups from each ships. Even those big ships only carry a small number of them. They cannot be dedicated carriers."

"They wouldn't be in the vanguard if they were," van Buren remalrked, more to himself than anyone else. "No, those big boys are battleships, dreadnoughts, whatever you want to call them; artillery platforms, not carriers."

He continued studying the enemy formation. The frigates were clearly intended as a barrier to ward of the fighter attack, with the turian fighters behind them to engage any that made it through. If his own fighter squadrons continued their attack as planned, targeting the three massive warships in the center of the formation, they would be massacred. They would take serious losses as they passed the frigates, then as they made their attack runs they'd have to contend with the massed point defense of the larger ships while alien fighters picked them off in individual dogfights. Still, the alien formation also had its weaknesses. While those frigates were in a perfect position to protect their big brothers, they themselves were awfully exposed, and since van Buren couldn't stop this turian fleet anyway, he might as well use his assets where they would do the most good.

"Contact the fighters: change of target. Engage the frigates and do not, I repeat NOT, penetrate into the enemy formation."

**HNV Righteous Fury**

The swarm of human fighters was closing rapidly. By now they were close enough that the turian sensors could clearly distinguish two different models. The fighters in the leading and trailing units had a strange double-wing design with engine pods on the tips, probably for enhanced manoeuvrability in space, though the additional drag would severely handicap them while operating in an atmosphere. In between them was a different model of fighter that seemed to consist solely of a massive, forward swept wing that would have seemed more in place on an old fashioned pure-atmosphere craft.

Desolas Arterius watched calmly as the warm closed. In order to reach his dreadnoughts they would have to pass the picket line of frigates, taking point defense fire all the way. Some would undoubtedly make it through, but not enough to pose a threat to the massive ships, and the turian fighters were waiting, ready to take on the survivors. Suddenly, as he watched, the leading squadrons veered aside, manoeuvering with enviable agility to make way for the second. He hesitated for a moment, trying to understand what they had in mind, then he realized it.

"Send the fighter patrol forward! They're going for our frigates!"

The warning came too late. Even as he spoke twenty four F-302s opened their underwing weapon bays exposing the homing sensors of the weapons within. Within a second, six heat seekers underneath each fighter had acquired their targets and locked on. In each fighter a weapon officer pressed the trigger and a total of one hundred and forty-four missiles streaked away. Behind them the F-302s veered sharply of course scattering in all directions.

**-o-o-o-**

The massive salvo closed rapidly on the wall of turian frigates that was not prepared for the attack. Confident that the humans would focus their attack on the most dangerous targets, the three dreadnoughts at the center of the formation, the turians had intended to let the human fighters close to minimum range and engage them with their GARDIAN lasers as they passed. Instead, they now found themselves trying to deal with an unexpected threat. Jammers came online, but the missiles, relying purely on passive infrared sensors, ignored the electronic noise. These were not the complex, highly versatile ASAT missiles used by destroyers and planetary defenses. Instead they were simple throw-away weapons that relied on high speed and numbers to penetrate enemy defenses.

GARDIAN lasers lashed out from the frigates downing missile after missile, but the small high speed objects were tough to hit and there were simply too many of them. More than half the missiles made it through and detonated just outside the frigates' shields. The missiles were not particularly large, which limited the size of the individual warheads. However, the designers had taken this into account. As each missile reached the end of its flight, a small charge in the nose exploded sending a rain of small pellets forward in an expanding cone. Each single pallet was negligible, but hundreds of them,, inpacting over a relatively small area causes the shields to weaken. Behind the initial charge, a second warhead was triggered an instand later and this was a rather different design. It consisted of a large chunck of the strongest explosive humanity had been able to produce, hollowed out at the front and covered with a layer of soft metal. As the explosives detonated the metal was instantly heated up and liquified and shot forward in a thin jet that impacted the already weakened shields of its target.  
Alarms flared on the bridges of more than half a dozen turian frigates as the jets of molten metal slammed into their hulls. Three frigates, losing multiple thrusters, spun out of formation, while several others had to deal with hull breaches.

The turian fighters streamed past the frigates in an attempt to exact revenge, but the F-302s had already reversed course and were accelerating away. Behind them, three squadrons of Starfuries were hanging in space, nearly stopped relative to the turian fleet. The turian fighters swept down on their opponents, firing as they came. The human pilots, waiting until the last moment suddenly lit of their thrusters, scattering in all directions. Even engaging with only part of their force the turian fighters outnumbered their opponents by a margin of three or more to one, but in the chaos of a dogfight that was not necessarily an advantage as turian pilots had to be more careful to avoid hitting their own people. The problem was enhanced by the clear dissimilarity in fighter designs. The turian fighters could accelerate more steeply, but found that they were unable to follow their opponents in tight turns, nor could they match the Starfuries' ability to simply dodge sideways or reverse course. The result was utter chaos with turian fighters sweeping in and out of the dogfight while the humans twisted and dodged, trying for deflection shots. The situation did not improve when the F-302s came around and charged back into the fray. Although primarily designed as fighter bombers, the F-302s actually came closer to matching the performance characteristics of the turian fighters and were able to stay with them whenever they tried to break free.

The battle lasted only for a few minutes, but for the participants it seemed like hours, then as soon as it had begun both sides turned away from each other, many of the pilots incapable of fighting on as their weapons had overheated and would require time to cool down. On both sides squadron leaders tried to reassert control and establish the status of their units. The final tally was dire on both sides. Of the thirty six starfuries that had entered the battle, nine were gone, with four more damaged but able to keep up with the rest. Three more F-302s had been lost as well. On the turian side twenty-three fighters had been lost on top of the crippled frigates.

First blood had been drawn. Considering the odds, it could be counted as a human victory, but if so it was Phyrric one. To all intends and purposes Shanxi's fighters squadrons had shot their bolt. Now only six destroyers stood between the planet and the advancing turian fleet.

* * *

**Geneva, earth**

"... and I can assure the people of earth, that the Assembly is fully aware of the situation, contrary to what general Spears has insinuated. We have been working tirelessly to ensure that humanity's response to the discovery of sapient alien life will not only keep us safe, but will guarantee our continued progress as a species and a society. However, such as decision cannot be taken in haste. It must be based on solid information and grounded in clear, rational thought. It is a shame, that the general, like so many in the military profession, is led by his emotions to throw baseless accusations at those of us who have worked so hard to ensure that peace and democracy, rather than brute force stay at the cornerstone of human civilization."

"Clearly, two can play a game," Spears murmured as he watched chairwoman Hammerstein's performance. "No direct condemnation, but she's steadily eroding my reputation."

"Quite so." Harper agreed. They had met again to discuss the next step, in case Hammerstein failed to respond in person. Fortunately, that was not the case and the two men now watched Hammerstein's hastily laid on press conference. "Did you notice her words though? She was assuring the 'people of earth'. Not a word about the colonies. Right now that doesn't mean much, but once the rest of our plan has been put into effect, people will start to analyze this speech and pick it apart word by word. I'm sure they'll notice then."

"Ah, yes, the rest of our plan." Spears said. "And exactly what is 'the rest of our plan', now that I have put myself forward as political lightning rod?"

Harper smiled. "Don't worry, general. I'll make my move within the next few days. However, it is probably best that you don't know. Your response will become a matter of public record, so the more genuine it is, the better."

"You'd better hurry up, Harper. Because we have very little time. "

Harper simply lifted an eyebrow.

"The alien fleet has reached Shanxi and the media will find out within a few hours. There is no way to keep that from happening. When that happens we have to be ready. Otherwise, if we lose our momentum, Hammerstein will be able to spin it her way; and all of this will have been for nothing."

"Agreed. As I said, don't worry general. Just make sure, that admiral Drescher doesn't go rogue. If she moves to Shanxi without permission, the story will be all about the out-of-control military and we cannot afford that. Not yet."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A/N **

**Wow, I have a whole new regard for professional speech writers. Writing pompous speeches, or even small parts of them, is tough.**

**The warheads on the missiles actually exist in real life. It's a combination of a fragmentation warhead with a shaped-charge armor piercing warhead behind it. This kind of warhead has been tried for missiles that are supposed to work again****s****t both airplanes and armored vehicles. In practice it doesn't seem to be very successful, but I figure that in two hundred yeras we should be able to get it to work. **

**Yes, those were predators in the last chapter. I'm keeping them a bit in the background for now, but they will have a small role to play in coming events. Besides, even without the need to visit Shanxi, I can imagine them watching an ongoing war just for fun. Something like: 'Hey, the turians are about to invade a human colony, lets get some popcorn and make sure we have good seats.'**


	13. Death ride at Shanxi

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**A long one this time (at least for me.)**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**HNV Righteous Fury, Shanxi system**

The human fighters had retreated and were moving past the six warships that were slowly backing away, using their reverse thrusters while keeping their bows pointed toward the turian fleet.

General Desolas Arterius studied the tactical plot, while listening as one of his staff officers discussed the casualties. The first engagement had not gone well. The human fighters, being severely outnumbered, should have been swept away. Instead they had crippled three of his frigates and cost him more than ten percent of his total embarked fighter strength. It was not a good begin for the campaign. Still, the total losses were minor when compared with his fleet strength and did nothing to change the hopelessly lob-sided balance of force.

With a tingle tap of his talon, he activated a communication channel to one of the other dreadnoughts, the Force of Justice which carried general Oraka, his second in command.

"We seem to have underestimated their fighter strength."

"Quite so," Septimus Oraka looked rather thoughtful. "A curious tactic, though. I would have expected them to coordinate an attack between the fighters and the larger warships, rather than sending in the fighters alone. One wonders why they chose this approach."

Desolas' Mandibles twitched slightly as he tried to hold on to his temper. Although Desolas outranked him, general Oraka was actually a more experienced soldier. Oraka had carefully refrained from commenting on Desolas' rather less than successful response to the attack, but he could almost here the other general thinking it. "It doesn't really matter. They don't seem capable of following up with another attack. The fighters are retreating, as are the warships, and from the look of things, they are evacuating their orbital base. We'll proceed as planned. I'll seize control of the planet while you hunt down the fleet."

"Ah, yes. You know, we could just let them go. They lack the strength to interfere with the landing, so it doesn't really matter whether we destroy them, or they retreat through the relay.

"No!" This time Desolas' anger got the better of them. "That is NOT an acceptable solution. We need them to understand that they cannot win. That will not happen if we let the majority of their naval force escape unharmed. Besides, this species will have to be integrated into galactic society sooner or later. Better that they learn straight away what it means to defy the hierarchy. Now carry out my orders."

He cut the link.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"You've heard our esteemed leader, we'll continue according to plan. It seems this is a time for learning lessons."

General Oraka studied the plot where he could see the small human defense force slowly retreating toward the relay.

"I wonder who will learn the most."

* * *

**USM Osawa**

"Admiral, status change."

Van Buren looked at the plot. The turian fleet was splitting up. The majority of the warships, including two of the biggest ships was pulling ahead of the rest.

"Analysis?"

"Sir, it looks like the smaller group is going for a zero-zero intercept with the planet. The others are accelerating, presumably to catch us."

"Splitting their forces? Well, I suppose they have the numbers for it. What is the status of the evacuation?"

"Almost done sir. The last group is boarding the RDVs now."

"Damn! They're behind schedule." The admiral scanned the plot again. In theory his destroyers were fast enough to avoid action, but, with the evacuation of the orbital station not yet complete, he would either have to abandon some of the fleeing base personnel to their fate, or risk a direct engagement at ten-to-one odds. Fortunately, the turians were moving slowly, ponderously. If van Buren had been in their position he would have thrown his smaller ships forward, have them make quick hit-and-run strikes at the enemy in order to cripple them and slow them down so that the larger ships could finish them off. The turians seemed to insist on keeping their whole fleet together. Not a bad concept when facing a force of similar strength, but rather pointless under the circumstances.

"Keep us backing up until we're at the station. If anyone is still on board by that time, they get left behind. What is the status on our frigates?"

"All in the outer system and hiding, sir. No sign that the enemy has detected them."

"Good. We'll need some eyes in this system."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

The humans warships were still backing up steadily, now moving past the orbital station. Well beyond them the remaining fighters had made rendez-vous with the fleeing transports. meanwhile the range was steadily coming down as the turian fleet could accelerate faster than the humans could reverse. General Oraka's eyes were glued to his tactical display. So far the human plan made sense. They had probably evacuated the orbital platform completely and now the transports, together with a light escort, were making for the mass relay at best possible speed. The evacuation had either started too late, or lasted longer than expected, so the transports would be hard-pressed to stay out of reach of his dreadnoughts and there was no way they could avoid contact with his smaller vessels. That was why the human warships were backing up, rather than turning away. If Oraka sent his frigates and cruisers ahead of his larger ships, they would have to advance straight into the fire of the humans' main guns. Considering their advantage in numbers they would win, but the humans would probably be able to inflict sufficient casualties that their transports would be safe.  
Now things were changing. Unless the humans changed their stance, their warships would come within range of his dreadnoughts before they could reach the relay and there was no way they could stand up to that much firepower.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Osawa**

Van Buren studied his display and didn't like what he saw. He had plotted several different courses for his destroyers and none of them would yield a satisfactory result. The evacuation had taken too long and forced him to let the turians come too close. Even if he turned away now and let his destroyers accelerate away under their main power there was no way for him to avoid action completely, at least not against the smaller ships, and he would be at a severe disadvantage. It was the same choice that he had force upon the aliens during his first engagement against them: a warship could either stand and fight using its main gun, or run away under main thrusters, but not both. In the first case, a more numerous force would surround the ship and overwhelm her, in the latter case it would mean a long stern chase with the pursuer using his main guns while the pursued could only reply with weaker weapons. _Note to self, he _though bitterly. _The next generation of destroyers should either have frigate style engines that allow equal acceleration in both directions, or an additional spinal gun that can fire toward the stern._ He grimaced. Both options had been discussed in theory and both had been dismissed as too expensive. Perhaps when this was over the navy would be able to reverse that decision.

"Captain Shen, bring us about on a new course, fifteen degrees off from a direct course to the relay. Have the squadron form up in wall formation: two high, three long, and stand by to engage with port batteries."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"They are turning away. Should we follow?"

General Oraka considered the situation. The new course would not allow the humans to evade action completely, his own fleet had too much of an initial speed advantage, but if they kept it, they would be able to accelerate away from him fairly quickly. But where would they go to... It only took him a moment to figure it out.

"Continue toward the relay. No matter how they maneuver, that is where they're ultimately going."

"General, they may have decided not to use the relay at all and just jump to FTL."

"No. There are no other base facilities in nearby systems. They have nowhere to go. Besides, if they stray too far from the transports, we can send our lighter units forward and wipe them out. They have to stay within range. This is not an escape, they're turning just enough to unmask their broadsides, that's all. Have the fleet spread out to make sure that we will be able to engage them even on a direct course for the relay."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Osawa**

The turian fleet was spread out over a wide front, the two big ships in the centre and the small ones extending in the horizontal plane, advancing steadily toward the relay while the destroyers moved away at a shallow angle. For van Buren's destroyers it was a trade-off. On the one hand, it would allow them to use their broadside batteries, rather than their extremely limited rear-guns while still staying within range of the fleeing transports, but it would also increase the total engagement time and reduce the range even further once they turned back toward the relay.

Aboard the six destroyers electronic warfare technicians were trying to jam the fire control of the alien ships, but there were simply too many of them and one by one, each destroyers reported positive enemy target locks.

**-o-o-o-**

In space there really was no such thing as a 'maximum range' for any projectile weapon. The slug from a mass accelerator, once fired, simply continued onward until it hit something, anything, no matter how far away from the point where it had been launched, with the impact of a small nuclear explosion. That, as gunnery instructors used to say, was why sir Isaac Newton was the deadliest son-of-a-bitch in space.  
In practice though, there was a limit, albeit a flexible one, imposed by the practical limits of a targeting sensor's performance against a fast moving object, the slight angular deviations of the slugs as a mass accelerator fired repeatedly, which caused them to spread out along a narrow, but still measurable, cone, and finally the fact that at longer range the target might be able to out-manoeuvre the projectiles, which, though fast, still needed a finite amount of time to reach their targets. Exactly what constituted 'maximum engagement range' depended on the characteristics of the weapon, the tactical situation, and the mood of whoever was in charge.

With an overwhelming advantage in numbers on his side, as well as an advantage in the power of individual weapons, general Oraka had decided not to keep the fleet's guns under central control, leaving it to each ship's captain to decide when they would open fire. The result was a small, but steadily increasing, stream of projectiles as ship after ship opened fire, testing their spinal cannons at their effective limit in the hope of refining their targeting solutions. The answer came in the form of a single volley, then another, and another as the retreating destroyers replied with their lighter broadside weapons.  
Neither side was particularly successful; the range was still too large for effective fire control. However, as minute after minute passed, the frequency of hits started to rise. Two projectiles slammed into a destroyer, stripping it of part of its shields and forcing the ship to rotate in order to present its undamaged side to the incoming fire. A turian cruiser, through luck or skill, shook as half a dozen slugs slammed into its bow shields.  
The range closed, slowly but steadily.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Multiple hits on two cruisers. No major damage."

"And no sign of their missiles," the general commented. That was the one uncertain factor here. He had been concerned about the human anti-ship missiles ever since he had read the reports from captain Livestian's ill-fated patrol. Those things were an unknown factor and he had not had sufficient information to be sure that he could find an effective counter.

"Perhaps they did not get replacements after their battle with the 24th recon squadron, sir," one of the officers suggested.

"Perhaps, but I doubt it. You don't design a weapon that complex and expensive and then fail to build adequate numbers. besides, I doubt they shot off their full on-board supply in one salvo." He considered the situation. "I really would prefer to have a better feeling for those things before we get to close range. Let's try the following..."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Osawa**

"Enemy frigates moving ahead of the main fleet. They're going for the transports; they have fighter cover."

Van Buren watched as the smaller enemy ships started to pull ahead of the main force. At their rate of acceleration, they would overtake the fleeing transports in short order. The rapid deployment vessels covering the transports might be able to fight them off, but not before they could target the transport ships, and on those tightly packed vessels, even a minor hull breach could lead to a massacre.

"Deploy ASAT missiles."

A total of twenty four missiles sped away from the destroyers, their primary drives propelling them toward an intercept point with the frigates.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"There they are. Now we'll see if my estimate was correct."

Sending the frigates out ahead had been a gamble, but a reasonable one. There were several warships with the human transports, but they were of the type encountered originally by recon squadron 24 and reported as lightly armed, despite being the size of cruisers. In addition, there were still about thirty undamaged fighters in a swarm around the human formation, but those were the same that had attacked the fleet earlier and they had not been resupplied with missiles. Oraka could deploy three times as many fighters as well as eight frigates. That would have to be enough, even if it came to an actual battle, which was not his intention.

The twenty-four missiles were coasting toward the intercept point, their primary drives having burned out shortly after launch in a repeat of the attack pattern that had been used during the second battle for Relay 314. However, circumstances were quite different. Instead of engaging an essentially stationary enemy they were now aiming toward a point in space in the hope that they, and their targets, would arrive at approximately the same time. Passive sensors scanned the space ahead, measuring relative velocities, waiting for the moment that they would reach attack range.  
Aboard the frigates, the turian crews had noted the launch. They too had seen the data from the earlier battle and knew what was coming. On a pre-arranged signal, the frigates veered sharply off course, scattering in all directions. The targeting systems of the ASAT missiles noted the deviation and recalculated. The result was not good. The turian frigates were fast and the intercept angle was working in their favour. On their current course, the missiles would miss the turian formation completely. There was only one possible solution. As one the missiles lit off their secondary stage drives much earlier tan intended in the hope of correcting their approach vector. That could work, but it also revealed their position, much earlier than intended.  
Aboard the missiles, electronic warfare systems activated in the hope of compensating for the lack of concealment, but that was only a partial fix. Turian targeting systems tracked the missiles as they approached, correlating data to eliminated false echoes and sensor ghosts.  
At the maximum effective range, the GARDIAN lasers opened fire. The initial shots went wide, as had been expected, but they provided the fire-control systems with additional information, allowing the gunners to improve their targeting solutions.

One missile disappeared, then another, and another.

As the range dropped, the accuracy of the turian fire increased. The turian fighters, which had kept up with the frigates added their own weapons to the defence, accounting for several more missiles. Of the twenty-four ASAT missiles that had started the attack, only five made it to within striking distance of the frigates, of those only two managed to actually detonate, stripping away the shields on two frigates, but without doing serious damage.

Aboard his flagship, general Oraka looked on with satisfaction

"So, that did work. Still, bring the frigates back inside our point defense grid. I suspect those ships carry enough for at least one more salvo and I'd rather not waste ships if I can help it. They may have a way to compensate for such a maneuver. Make a note in the log. Frigates should be fast enough to evade human missile fire, if they have sufficient advance warning. Keep us on course for the relay and continue the engagement."

* * *

**Shanxi orbit**

The Shanxi naval station lay abandoned, all of its personnel gone. Still, the station was not completely dead yet. In its command centre the central computer was accumulating data.

Data point one: all human personnel had left the station.

Data point two: countdown to self destruct had been authorized, but not yet initiated.

Data point three: all point defence systems had been set to full automatic

Data point four: A large number of ships was approaching.

The on-board sensors registered the approaching vessels and compared them to its database, as it had done countless times before. Unfortunately, none of the entries seemed to match. Normally, the computer would have alerted a human operator, but without humans that was not an option.  
At the very bottom of its database, the computer found a new entry. A directory, recently added to the system, that contained a small number of files, containing images and energy patterns. With all other options exhausted the computer opened the directory and started matching energy signatures. Result: _70 percent match, insufficient data_. That was awkward, but not unexpected, and so the computer waited as the ships approached. Soon the ships were close enough for visual identification. The computer loaded the new images and matched them against existing images and wireframes. Again the result was less than satisfactory. This time the match was approximately 80 percent for some images, but zero for others. The computer queried its search routines:

_Is a combination of 70 percent on energy and 80 percent on a limited fraction of the total sufficient to constitute a match?_

The answer was simple.

_Yes_

Having matched the approaching ships to those in that particular directory, the computer found an instruction to open a particular command routine.

_What is the distance?_

The computer measured.

_Acceptable_

A final command line activated the station's short range transmitters and sent out a single command. In orbit around Shanxi, nearly a hundred receivers picked up the command and woke up.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Righteous Fury**

Desolas stared out of the bridge window as his flagship approached the planet. Far away general Oraka was still engaged in a running fight with the fleeing human warships, but he didn't envy his second in command the action. Naval battles were all well and good, but they would not bring victory in this campaign. That could only come with the conquest of the planet before him and Desolas would not surrender that particular task to anyone else.

"General?" One of his staff officers approached. "We're picking up some movement from satellites in orbit around the planet."

**-o-o-o-**

It had been a somewhat dubious idea from the beginning. Military planners, both naval and marine, had noted that Shanxi's ordnance stores held a considerable number of the large ASAT missiles that equipped admiral van Buren's destroyers. With each of the six destroyers only capable of holding eight of the massive missiles, the rest had been slated for destruction, rather than have them fall into enemy hands. Still, they represented a considerable amount of firepower. Not as much as in the old days, before the discovery of element zero and the introduction of effective energy shields, but enough to make anyone think twice of venturing near the planet if the missiles could be brought to bear. Unfortunately, Shanxi had never received the planet-mounted launchers that would have allowed general Williams to use such missiles to deny the enemy orbital dominance.  
During one of the many brainstorming sessions that had followed the discovery of alien life, lieutenant Sosa, the naval liaison to general Williams staff, smarting from the feeling that the navy was effectively betraying the marines, had suddenly asked the crucial question: _They have their own drives. Why do we need to launch them at all?_

It had been a herculean task, but over the following days navy shuttles had taken the missiles out of storage and, one by one, towed them into geo-stationary orbit around Shanxi. There they would stay, dormant, looking like dead satellites to the outside observer, waiting for the activation signal. The plan was sound, but had two drawback: first of all, the missiles were supposed to receive an initial power surge from the launch system to start their systems. Hanging in orbit they had no such external power source. Fortunately, the considerable amount of redundancy built into the ASAT missiles meant that they had an auxiliary power-unit that could provide them with the necessary power, as long as they didn't have to sit in orbit for too long. The second problem was worse: there was no fire-control system in place. Originally, lieutenant Sosa had suggested using the destroyers to provide initial targeting information after they had launched their own missiles, but that would have required keeping the ships relatively close to the planet. Upon his return admiral van Buren had vetoed that plan. His experience in combat against the aliens had convinced him that the relatively small numbers of missiles that his ships could control at a time would simply not be enough to effectively overwhelm the defenses of a whole enemy fleet, and that the nearly one hundred ASAT missiles now riding in orbit would be wasted in small strikes while his destroyers were torn apart by enemy fire. Still, he liked the idea of firing the missiles, rather than just blowing them up, and had come up with another plan. After all, the internal guidance systems on board the missiles were among the most sophisticated ever designed. Surely they could be put to some use

Aboard each missile, the targeting computer woke up and scanned the sky around it using passive sensors. There were many active emission sources as well as a great number of drive signatures. The computers checked their internal IFF and found that it had been deactivated. Instead, there was a simple command:

_All targets are hostile. _

That made things simple.

The computers queried their telemetry links for external commands but found none.

That was strange, but not a problem.

The computers opened active communications and found each other.

That was expected. ASAT missiles were never launched alone.

Within a fraction of a second, each computer received the targeting data of all the others, building a complete picture of all the ships now approaching their position. A moment later, each processor had some up with its own judgment as to what attack profile should be followed, depending on target selection, relative speed and position and even a random factor that had been programmed into their system. This too was communicated to the others. Acting as a single network the computers adjusted their solution based on each others' planned attack profiles. It was strange that there was no input from outside their network, but it had been planned for in case of heavy electronic interference, or if a ship was destroyed at the moment of launching.

All of this had taken no more than ten seconds, then, acting as one, the ASAT missile lit off their primary drives and sped off toward their targets.

**-o-o-o-**

One moment all was quiet, the next it was chaos. Just as the turian ships were decelerating to enter orbit, nearly a hundred missiles that no one had spotted converged upon the turian fleet. Their attack was utterly unpredictable, with some missiles disengaging their drives and going ballistic while others kept on burning to reach maximum acceleration, trading stealth for speed. The carefully interlinked point defense grid fell apart as individual ships maneuvered wildly to avoid the oncoming missiles.  
The GARDIAN lasers did quite well and dozens of missile vanished off the scanners, but there were simply too many of them, the distance was too short, and the attack was too unpredictable.

Four fighters, purely by accident found themselves in the way of the oncoming missiles and were wiped out without a trace. A single turian frigate, targeted by half a dozen missiles coming in from wildly diverging points, had its shields stripped away even as the massive EMP caused overloaded the circuits of its point defense system and the flash of nuclear explosions seared its sensors. That accounted for four missiles. The last two, finding no impediment to their attack decided to forgo a stand-off attack and closed to contact distance. Without warning the entire starboard side of the ship was ripped open and the wreckage of what had been a fighting ship only seconds earlier tumbled away, spilling crewmembers and debris. Two cruisers, finding themselves under a similar barrage, did only slightly better, their heavier point defense allowing them to destroy several missiles before they exploded. Still, one of them suddenly found itself missing nearly half of its thrusters and the other, though avoiding a major hull breach, had to stop all propulsion as most of its sensor burned out, leaving the crew with no idea where their ship was going.  
Other ships did better, either because they had been farther away, targeted by fewer missiles, or because they were simply lucky. The fleet flagship, however, could make no such claims. In the vanguard of the turian fleet, it had been one of the closest targets, its sheer size drawing a correspondingly large fraction of the missiles and its ponderous bulk prohibited any attempt to maneuver clear.  
Initially, it had been targeted by nearly thirty missiles. Two were destroyed by turian fighters who tried desperately to defend the admiral's ship. Three others were drawn away to attack nearby cruisers in the general confusion and eight more fell to the big vessel's GARDIAN batteries. That left fourteen missiles to reach attack range. In a way the Righteous Fury was lucky. If the missiles could have chosen an optimal attack pattern they could have detonated in sequence, with the first missiles blinding the point defense, the next stripping the shields and the last group attacking the bare hull. Fortunately for the ship and its crew, that did not happen. With no clear instructions and only a fraction of a second to decide, the on-board computers of the ASAT missiles decided they could not shield their own systems adequately from each others' explosion and, rather than risking a pointless fratricide, simply closed to minimum distance and detonated as one.

The explosion, which directly impacted the shields, was strong enough to shake the massive dreadnought from stem to stern and general Arterius found himself tossed to the ground as inertial compensators tried to keep the ship under control. Most of the shields on one side of the dreadnought were stripped away completely and half of the GARDIAN lasers were burned away completely. However, the hull withstood the impact with only two minor breaches.

**-o-o-o-**

"Well?" general Williams asked.

"One confirmed kill, one probable," Lieutenant Sosa answered, studying the data that was being sent from the abandoned orbital station. "Major damage to at least two more ships, including the big one. Several fighters destroyed, minor damage to other vessels."

* * *

**USM Osawa, near the Shanxi relay**

USM Osawa shook as another projectile slammed into her shields. By now all of the destroyers had taken damage and the number of hits was only increasing. Their return fire had damaged several of the turian pursuers, but it was simply not enough and with each new hit they lost more of their broadside armament.

"Admiral, we're approaching the turn-over point."

Van Buren had been dreading that message. It meant that they would have to change course and curve back toward the relay. Moreover, they would soon have to start decelerating in order to match speed with the relay and that mean that the turian fleet would be able to come even closer.

"Do we have a targeting solution on their largest vessels?"

"Yes, sir."

"Select one and launch all remaining ASATs. All twenty-four missiles on one target. I doubt we'll get many hits, but there is no point in letting them go to waste."

The admiral and his chief of staff looked at each other, both understanding the unspoken message: if they didn't launch the missiles now, they might well be lost in their launch bays, together with the destroyers.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"General, the enemy is turning back toward the relay... Missiles on approach!"

General Oraka was not particularly surprised at either message. The battered human warships would have to turn back to join up with the transports that were now approaching the mass relay. He had already resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to overtake those transports, which didn't particularly interest them in any case. There was no way his dreadnoughts could move quickly enough to overtake them and he was not going to risk splitting up his fleet just to catch a couple of cargo vessels. As for the missiles, that was hardly a surprise. They had to fire them now or risk losing them together with the launch vessel. It was a pity that his previous trick would not work this time. There was no way the humans would waste the weapons on frigates that could probably evade them when there were other targets around.

Once again the ASAT missiles followed the established attack pattern, accelerating quickly, then coasting ballistically. This time, the approach vector was far more favourable, with the missiles and their target nearly directly toward each other, and the dreadnought was certainly not capable of evasive action. Turian fighters redeployed ahead of the main body in the hope of catching at least some of the missiles before they could strike, but they had to spread out over a wide front, waiting to see which ships the missiles would target.

This time all missiles managed to reach the optimal point before lighting off their secondary drives and charging toward a single dreadnought. The turian fighters converged, pouring fire into the general direction of the missiles and scoring multiple hits. Then the GARDIAN lasers took over, both from the dreadnought itself as well as the cruisers on its flanks. The missiles raced on, trying to close the distance before they were destroyed. Two lost the target due to either internal failure or the turian jamming systems and attacked a nearby cruiser, in the end that left only four to engage the original target, two of them detonating together to blind its sensors, the second pair exploding an instance later. The shields failed and collapsed, allowing the final remnant of the explosions to impact on the hull, but by then they had wasted most of their strength. Although several sensors were destroyed and at least one broadside cannon would have to be replaced, the hull withstood the explosion and the dreadnought continued on its course.

**-o-o-o-**

By now the engagement range had come down considerably. Mass accelerator fire flashed back and forth between the two formations, with both sides scoring hit after hit and the turian advantage in numbers was beginning to count. USM Themistocles, reeling from at least a dozen impacts on her unshielded hull fell out of formation, atmosphere spilling from her flank. The remaining five destroyers clung to their course, firing their remaining weapons in a desperate attempt to hold off the turians until they could reach the mass relay. There the survivors of Shanxi's fighter squadrons had formed up in a single formation guarding the transports as they prepared to make the jump to Arcturus.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"General, there has been a problem with the invasion force."

Oraka tore his gaze away from the plot and looked at the report. If turians had been capable of snorting he would have done so. Apparently, Desolas' little plan had run into yet another problem. Not much of a surprise. That was the sort of thing you could expect when you send an invasion force against an unknown enemy. In any case, there wasn't anything that he could do about it until he had finished with the human warships. As he watched the human transports started to enter the relay. that was a pity, but not really a concern. His chances of catching them were never high to begin with. The five remaining warships, now that was another matter. he might nit fully agree with general Arterius plans, but there was no denying that the loss of six such ships would certainly influence human thinking and, hopefully, convince them that they had no hope of standing against the might of the hierarchy. If it helped end the war quickly, then so much the better. If, that is, he could manage it.  
By now his gunners had the range. The cruisers were scoring hit after hit and even the slow-firing weapons on his dreadnoughts, which were less than ideal for engaging fast-moving targets, were becoming effective and the human return fire was weakening. Unfortunately, the engagement window would be relatively short. It was one of the little quirks of space warfare. On the one hand, the fact that the humans needed to decelerate to approach the mass relay had allowed the turian fleet to overtake them, but it also meant that by now the turians had the higher speed and would actually move past the human ships before they could hope to decelerate. In that moment, they would have to destroy the humans to prevent them from entering the relay.

"Allow the fighters and frigates to move ahead and strike at enemy propulsion. By now they must have lost most of their point defense. Just cripple them. We'll finish them off later."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Osawa**

Admiral van Buren watched as the turian formation began to split up. He had expected it to happen earlier, but the enemy was playing a rather cautious game. Not that it would make much a difference. He still had five destroyers with him -Themistocles had long since fallen behind, her propulsion gone- but of those only his flagship and USM Surcouf were still combat-capable, and even they were missing broadside guns and had lost most of their shields. The others were little more than wrecks, bleeding atmosphere from hull breaches and incapable of effective counter fire. If the enemy fighters closed now, they would be nearly unopposed as most ships had lost their point defense lasers. If the enemy pilots knew their business, they'd target his propulsion systems, leaving the destroyers helpless as the turian fleet closed.

"Admiral! The fighters!"

It took a moment for van Buren to realize, that captain Shen was not talking about the aliens. The remnants of Shanxi's fighter force, which had been holding position on the relay as the transports passed through, were now coming back on an intercept course with the approaching turians. The formation was ragged, probably due to a lack of central control, more than their earlier losses. Van Buren reached for his communications console to order them back, then stopped. The pilots knew what they were doing, knew the price they would pay for this attempt to buy his ships a few precious seconds. He would not dishonour that with futile orders.

**-o-o-o-**

The two formations swept toward each other, less than forty human fighters, a mix of Starfuries and F-302s against over a hundred turians, not counting the frigates. Closing speed was high, allowing little time for preparation or tactics. The turian fighters closed rapidly, firing as they came and concentrating the fire of three or four fighters on a single opponent. Behind them the frigates waited, decelerating to avoid being caught in the dogfight and unwilling to use their GARDIAN as long as their own pilots were in the line of fire.  
The human pilots braked sharply, realizing the danger that awaited them if they passed through the enemy formation. In an instant, the turian fighters were upon them and all semblance of coordination was lost. the dogfight only lasted for few seconds, then the few remaining human fighters turned and fled, leaving behind more than half of their number as well more than a score destroyed turian fighters.

**-o-o-o-**

The destroyers had had a little respite because the turians had been force to cease fire to avoid hitting their own ships in the confusion of the dogfight, but now that was over and the range had decreased even further. As they approached the relay, USM Vian seemed to stagger, the next moment she broke in half, debris spilling out of both ends. The four remaining ships stuck to their course, their few remaining weapons still returning fire, now concentrating on the turian frigates, that were making a new attempt to approach. Ahead of them loomed the massive shape of the mass relay and admiral van Buren felt hope for the first time since the start of the battle. He had lost a third of his flotilla as well as nearly three-quarters of Shanxi's fighters, but at least he would be able to safe the rest.

In a hail of mass accelerator fire the destroyers closed on the relay, spreading out in line abreast to avoid collisions as they made the jump. Their shields were now gone and all had multiple hull breaches. The first destroyer was grabbed by the relay, then the second, the third...

USM Osawa, bringing up the rear linked to the signal of the relay. For a moment she seemed suspended in space as the relay prepared to hurl her over a hundred lightyears away toward Arcturus. At that same moment, both turian dreadnoughts fired from point-blank range and four massive projectiles slammed into her unshielded hull at relativistic speeds penetrating deep into her power-core. Even as the other destroyers vanished from local space, USM Osawa too vanished, in a massive explosion.

* * *

**USM headquarters, Arcturus Station**

Admiral Drescher listened silently to the report that Frank Haffner, her chief of staff, presented to her. Her face remained expressionless even as he read the casualty lists. The list was long, far too long, and most of it unnecessary.

"Thank you Frank. Please have medical staff stand by to deal with the wounded and make sure that the surviving destroyers have docks waiting for them. I want them repaired as quickly as possible. Send a copy to the operational analysis unit so they can study the alien tactics."

She looked up, her face still utterly blank.

"Make sure that I am left alone. Until tomorrow morning I don't want to be disturbed for anything, unless these turians actually move against Arcturus."

* * *

**Shanxi, outer system**

USM Dagger had followed the alien fleet as it traveled to Shanxi. Now she, and three other frigates, were the only human naval assets left in the system, hiding in orbits far away from the central planets and observed the progress of the battle. As per orders they had avoided the battle and reduced all active transmissions, they would stay silent and watch, waiting for the time that second fleet could slip its political leash and take the fight to the aliens. However, unbeknownst to them, they were not the only observers. The cloaked ship had followed the turian fleet into Shanxi. Now it was hiding in the outer reaches of the system. The crew had followed the battle with great interest, albeit some confusion.

"Why did the humans not send reinforcements?"

It was a question that bothered all of them.

"Perhaps, they wanted to test their warriors, by putting them deliberately at a disadvantage?" Someone suggested.

"No, that is not how they operate, besides the disparity was too large to be a useful test. Perhaps it is a trap."

"A trap?"

"If the humans want to inflict the maximum amount of casualties, they need the turians to land so that their fleet will have to stay and fight or abandon the ground force. Turians wouldn't land unless they had secured the system."

This was an interesting suggestion. Using an entire star system, including a garden world, as bait in a trap was the sort of ploy that they could appreciate.

"I any case, we shall endeavor to find out later. In the mean-time, it is time to move in. Once the turians are on the ground, we will only have a small window of opportunity. Besides, it will be interesting to observe the battle from nearby."

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**A/N: Thanks to everyone for suggesting alternative uses of the ASAT missile.**

**Didd23: Yes, we never saw any fighters in Alien/Predator, but both the Starfury and the F-302 have a pragmatic, function-over-form look which fits pretty well with the Alien franchise. Besides, they are two of my favorite designs.**

**HaywireEagle: Oops! Thanks, I've corrected that.**

**PSG1JOHN: Nuclear warheads would be better and will probably be the next thing they try. Now they used the equivalent of Maverick or Harpoon missiles, but what they really need is something like an SRAM, or the old Genie missile. I left nukes out for now for several reasons: Humanity has been at peace for centuries. The only conflict they had was fighting xenomorphs and some low intensity conflict against corporate security and colonial uprisings. They never had to take on large warships, so they probably don't have large stockpiles of nukes, especially small ones that could be stolen and used for terrorist attacks. The second reason is that I don't want humanity to always have exactly the right tool for the occasion.  
I considered mines, because the description of Aliens' Sulaco mentions them, but they don't really work well in open space (you'd need an awful lot of them and it would be tough to keep them in the right position), so I used the ASATs instead.**

**U.N.S: For the moment I think I'll stick with the Predators from the movies. The way I see the Predators, they don't have much of a military. They don't see other races as enemies that you fight, just prey that you hunt. So, individuals go out and have their little safaries. If they get killed, that just makes it more exciting. If the prey gets out of hand, a bunch of Predators get together and have a big hunt to fix the problem, like game wardens killing a man-eating tiger. Actual soldiers would be a small group that only gets called in if it's absolutely necessary. So for now the Predators from the movies will be the standard. In ME terms, I figure someone at least as a big and strong as a Batarian and as fast as a human. He wears armour as good as any ME heavy armour, with an infiltrator style cloak that can stay up forever. For weapons: edged weapons as good as the sword on a Cerberus phantom and a plasma cannon that hits as hard as a heavy shotgun, but can fire rapidly, is more accurate, and has very sophisticated targeting. Plenty tough, but he can be beaten. Of course their ships are even more nasty: direct energy weapons and complete stealth.**


	14. Reflections and considerations

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**A short chapter this time, mainly to bring a couple of plot-lines up to date. Also, I wanted to create an excuse to have Saren go down to the planet. I'll try to have him run into a predator. Ground combat will start in the next chapter. Thanks everyone for the reviews**

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**Shanxi, in orbit around the planet**

"So, brother, you want to join the groundforce? Commanding a frigate is not good enough any more?"

Normally, a general and a lieutenant would not be sharing a drink, but there were exceptions for family, even within the strict confines of the hierarchy. So, when Desolas had read his brother's request for reassignment he had invited him over to the flagship. Now the two of them were sitting in Desolas' quarters, looking out over the shattered remnants of the human space station. Originally the plan had been to seize the facility intact, but after the ambush that the fleet had suffered when entering orbit, Desolas had changed his plans. Chances were that the station was either ready to open fire on approaching ships, loaded with booby-traps, or set to self-destruct upon being boarded, most likely all three. Instead, the turian fleet had opened firre from a safe distance and torn the station apart with mass accelerator slugs.

"Frigate command is fine," Saren's mandibles twitched in the turian equivalent of a grimace. "or it would be, if I actually got to use it for combat."

"I see. So, chasing the humans out of the system doesn't qualify as combat?"

"Hardly. That old fool Oraka ordered us forward twice, then called us back again. We never got in more than a few long distance shots at their ships. The cruisers and dreadnoughts did all the real work."

"Perhaps you should count yourself fortunate, Saren. Look at what happened here in orbit: one frigate gone completely, one cruiser nearly gone, and lot of other ships damaged. Consider that, before you criticize general Oraka." He studied his drink. "Still, it seems that we are done with space battles for now. I don't see a reason not to approve your request. To be honest, I never fully understood why they would waste a strong biotic like you in a command chair. Your talents wil be a lot more useful on the ground."

"So, I'm going planetside?"

"Yes. Not with the first wave; they are already fully loaded. You'll go down with the second wave, as soon as the landing sites are secure. We need to hurry this up, before somebody gets it in their head to intervene."

Saren stared at his brother in shock. The last time they had spoken, shortly after the fleet had come through Relay 288, Desolas had been confident, full of resolve. Now he seemed nervous.

"Who would dare? We're here on orders of the hierarchy. No-one short of the primarch can stop us."

"I'm not worried about someone stopping us, Saren. I'm worried about what happens afterwards. We're out here to safe face for the hierarchy and for Fedorian in particular. For that we need to do more than just win, we need to win quickly, with minimal losses. Already our losses are more than just 'minimal' and we haven't set a foot on the ground yet. If the invasion goes according to plan, everything will be fine, but if their ground-side defence does as much damage as their fleet, support for our actions will evaporate and the primarch will be too busy answering questions himself to cover us. After all, it was his foolishness that put us in this position."

"His... foolishness?" The hierarchy encouraged people to evaluate the actions of both subordinates and superiors, after all how else could society be sure that the right people ended up with the right responsibilities. Still, to say something so scathing about the primarch himself, supposedly the pinacle of turian capability...

"Try to imagine what would have happened if Fedorian had been a little less eager to show off. After Livestian and his ships were lost, the council was informed, and I'm sure they wanted to send in a diplomatic team-"

"And make us look like weaklings and fools?!"

"Let me finish, brother. If Fedorian had let them, it would have been the council who asked for peace, not the hierarchy; the council who negotiated; and ultimately the council who would have been responsible for the outcome. It would have been perfect. If the humans refused, it would be the council that lost face, not us, and they would have had no choice but to support our war effort; and if the humans were willing to negotiate, we would still be seen as the reasonable ones. After all, we stayed our talons when the council asked us to. In the mean time, the border would be secure and the council would owe us a big favour." Desolas took a sip of his drink. "Instead, our esteemed primarch decided that this was the perfect opportunity to show how independent we are. So, no council involvement. That meant that there would be no negotiations, because if we asked for peace ourselves, it would look too much like a surrender. And it's not like Fedorian had a better plan; or any plan at all."

"Until you provided him with one."

"Exactly! So, if everything goes right, it will be the humans that open negotiations, not us, and we will look quite magnanimous for giving back their precious little colony world. Fedorian will be in my debt for giving him a way out, and the rest of the hierarchy will remember that I was the one that gave them peace with honour. But for all that to happen we have to take this planet first, and if things go wrong..."

Saren stared at him. "Are you seriously suggesting that the invasion might fail?"

"Fail? No, but already our losses are above my initial projections and it will only get worse. If we suffer a setback, even a minor one, there will be plenty of people ready to pounce. Do you really think that the citadel council is just going to accept this? They may not feel strong enough to challenge Fedorian directly, but that doesn't mean they cannot make plenty of trouble."

"The council?" Saren scoffed. "What are they going to do? Write an angry memo?"

"Be careful with your judgements, little brother," Desolas chided. "The council's power may be more symbolic than real, but they have something that is almost as good: they have access. When they call someone, that person answers. When they talk, people listen. Even if they cannot harm us directly they can do a lot of damage, simply by 'voicing their concerns' to the right people."

Saren nodded. "And you think they will?"

"Oh, yes. I know Sparatus quite well. He has a vindictive streak and good reason to dislike Fedorian, especially since he is now our councillor, so any slight to the council reflects on him. I don't think he will deliberately undermine the hierarchy, but if he can find a way to make Fedorian look bad personally, why not?"

"And the other two?"

"I don't know Milnori at all, but remember that we have an STG vessel in system right now, so clearly the salarians are keeping an eye on us. Everything we have done so far goes against salarian doctrine. They never act without full knowledge. As for the asari, Tevos has been a councillor for nearly two centuries. So, she's had almost two hundred years to build up resentment at her lack of actual power. Any opportunity to exercise influence must be welcome, especially after Fedorian basically slapped them all down." He downed the last of his drink. "So, we have to move quickly, hit their strong points with everything we have, and pacify this planet. Don't worry little brother. You'll see action yet."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, second Lagrangian point**

The danger of the approach was over. They had had remained undetected and now the ship was locked in its orbital position, hidden by its stealth systems and with its engines shut down.

"Commander, the turians are preparing to land."

"Then we must be ready to move. The window of opportunity will be small. Are the hunters ready?"

"Yes. The young ones have been briefed on the layout of the human facility. But..."

"What?"

"How sure are we of our information?"

The commander would have smiled, if his facial structure had allowed for such an expression. "Quite sure. Humans are easy to bribe and their banking system is ideal for anonymous transactions. Besides, we managed to acquire several individuals with personal knowledge of the facility. They talked extensively before they died. Our schematics are generally correct. If there are minor differences, well, then the youngsters will just have to deal with the additional challenge."

"And the substance?"

"It's there. Several of the researchers from the human organization Weyland-Yutani fled after the great serpents got loose. At least two of them sought refuge with this 'Exogeni' group. They took the substance with them as bribe to gain protection. When the humans founded this colony Exogeni took the samples here, as far from the central government as they could get."

"I understand. I will make sure that the shuttle is ready to depart."

"Good. Keep an eye on the salarian vessel. Their sensors are better than the turians'. It does not matter too much if they get a look at the shuttle, but they must not discover our ship."

**-o-o-o-**

As they watched the first wave of turian cargo shuttles, accompanied by a swarm of fighters, broke from orbit. On the planet below the defenders, a mix of colonial marines, local militia, and corporate security were waiting for them.

* * *

**Presidium, the Citadel**

"Troubling. Very troubling." A wheezing breath. "We should have been informed."

Norlin Dem, ambassador of the Vol protectorate, studied the data he had just now received.

"Two cruisers lost, one damaged. The cost..." wheeze "... will be considerable. The profit..." wheeze "... so far: none."

"Indeed." Councillor Sparatus had been reasonably sure that the Volus had not been informed of either the incidents at Relay 314, or of general Arterius' little adventure. It was quite gratifying to see that this was true. The ambassador's reaction was also everything he could have hoped for. Normally, reading Volus' body-language was nearly impossible through their rotund encounter suits, and analysing their voice patterns was perhaps even more difficult. However, ambassador Dem's annoyance was almost tangible.  
"And that," Sparatus continued. "is merely the cost so far. I think we can be reasonably sure that these humans are not going to welcome Arterius with a bottle of dextro-brandy. So, even if his little invasion is successful, there will be additional costs. Probably quite a lot."

"Yes. Invasions are expensive..." wheeze "... reparations may be more so."

"You expect that the hierarchy will have to pay?" Sparatus carefully kept his tone neutral. Better to let the ambassador draw his own conclusions, rather than attempt to persuade him. Besides, while they might think in terms of costs and benefits, rather than conquest and retreat, the Volus were good strategists. The ambassador was a veteran of decades of financial scheming and political infighting; his take on the current situation would certainly be worth listening to.

"Possible. Your squadron was first to fire..." wheeze "... in clear violation of first contact protocol." Wheeze. "This new clan's strength and resources are unknown, but their tactics are effective. Fight when strong..." wheeze "... evade when weak. Seems tactics dictated by practical considerations..." wheeze "... not pride." _Unlike some turians,_ he carefully left unsaid. "General Arterius' plan may work..." wheeze "... but it relies on the humans acting as expected." Wheeze. "What if they simply refuse to negotiate?"

_What indeed? _

Sparatus left the embassy shortly afterwards, his task complete. Undoubtedly councillor Tevos was having a similar conversation with the Elcor ambassador. That left the Hanar to councillor Milnori. By the end of the day, all senior diplomats on the citadel would have been briefed. A simple courtesy, though rather overdue considering that the galaxy might well explode in total war at any moment. If all went well, the council would have lost nothing, having simply done its duty towards the non-council species. And if something went wrong, well, then having briefed the ambassadors in advance could only work to the council's advantage. At the very least it would safe a lot of time.

* * *

**Geneva, earth**

"It is with great sadness, that I must inform you, that the navy has been forced to retreat from Shanxi. Despite a valiant defence, they were simply overwhelmed by the aliens' massive advantage in numbers. Casualties have been very heavy, including a twenty-five percent loss of fighters and pilots and the loss of three destroyers with all hands. Among the casualties, I regret to say, was admiral Johan van Buren, the senior naval officer at Shanxi, who died heroically on the flag bridge of USM Osawa as his flotilla covered the retreat."

General Spears looked up from his lectern and let his gaze roam over the assembled press corps. Hammerstein and her flunkies had made a spirited attempt to silence him, by simply drowning his voice out with the noise they generated, but they could not succeed completely. After all, there was a war going on and, with a battle underway, too many reporters were hoping for some gory details to boost their ratings.

"This is the greatest military disaster humanity has faced since the great wars of the twentieth century. It will only be compounded by the loss of Shanxi itself, with its millions of inhabitants, as they inevitably succumb to the alien invasion. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, to you, and to all those listening at home, I can only say that this is a betrayal, the likes of which I had NEVER imagined to see. Even as I speak to you, millions of human colonists look up at the sky and wonder why it is filled with alien warships, wonder why they have been abandoned to the enemy. Even as I speak, thousands of brave soldiers, our men and women, prepare themselves to fight a battle that they KNOW they cannot win, while only one relay-jump away we have enough firepower ready to smash these aliens and scatter them across the cosmos; enough firepower to ensure that not a single alien EVER sets foot on human soil."

He took a deep breath. This was it, the moment he had been anticipating with equal excitement and dread, the moment of commitment. he had held off as long as he could, waiting for Harper to move first, but he had run out of time. With the news of Shanxi's fall still fresh, he could push the press in the direction he wanted, but only if he seized the opportunity right away. Any delay would inevitably reduce the impact of the message.

"I call upon charirwoman Hammerstein and upon those who have followed her lead to resign their positions in the Assembly and make way for new leaders, leaders who will act, rather than speak, leaders who will work with the United Systems Military, rather than hamstring us, leaders who will redeem this terrible betrayal and lead humanity to victory!"

Pandemonium reigned.

**-o-o-o-**

Patricia Hammerstein cursed under her breath as she watched the life broadcast from her apartment. Spears had proven himself to be a better public speaker than she had anticipated. On top of that, he had the considerable advantage that he looked the part that he portrayed. A big, burly man, square-jawed, with silver-grey hair cut close to the skull, he was almost the archetype of the touch military leader, and with people in a panic over the latest news from Shanxi, he was the ideal figure for them to look to for guidance. Already there were protestors demonstrating in the streets. So far, those had been primarily pro-peace activists, but that was changing.

Things were developing too quickly. Hammerstein had hoped to have a few more days to get rid of Spears, preferably by forcing him to resign, or, if that failed, by getting him off earth and back to Arcturus. Unfortunately, the aliens had moved faster than expected and Shanxi's naval force had thrown in the towel earlier than she, or her advisers, had anticipated. Now she'd have to move quickly to stay on top of the political situation. So far the delegates had stayed in line, even most of the colonial ones, but, if they thought that supporting Spears would provide them with a reasonable alternative to Hammerstein's demands, that might change. She had to neutralize Spears.

Hammerstein picked up her communicator. She needed to give a press conference first thing in the morning to answer Spears' call for her resignation. That meant a speech, and a good one. Her staff would be working through the night. She placed a call to her personal assistant to give him the necessary instructions.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

For the first time, chairwoman Hammerstein actually looked at the small screen. The status bar that showed her connection to the nearest transmission station was gone. She had no signal at all.

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**A/N The lagrangian points are places where an object can maintain a constant position relative to both the planet and the central star without using any engine power. Today, we use the L2 as a place for astronomical satellites that need to be far from earth in order to function properly. It's also a good place to hide, because it allows a ship to maintain a constant distance without using thrusters while still being close to the planet. The wikipedia page shows the location.**

**killroy225****: I agree, peace was the wrong word. Humans will always fight. However, I would expect the wars to be very asymmetrical. Mainly guerilla and urban terrorism. That doesn't present the sort of targets that you use tactical nukes on, especially if you want to avoid breaking a contained environment, such as a domed colony on another planet or a space station. I'm thinking of the sort of military situation we now have in Western Europe. Many of the stockpiles of small nukes have been withdrawn and some countries are retiring heavy weapons such as tanks, artillery and warships in favour of the sort of light vehicles, helicopters etc. that you need for counter-insurgency. (Nor necessarily a good idea, but people want to reduce costs.) So now the USM navy is equipped mainly to bring the colonial marines to their destination and support them from orbit and with fighter cover, not to fight large space battles.**

**Panzer4life****: The xenomorph would not be that big a threat in open combat. As long as you see them coming you can slaughter them with gunfire. The problem is, they're like cockroaches: no matter how many you kill, there are always some left. So, once planet gets infected, it becomes this endless circle: civilians start disappearing - soldies move in and kill the xenomorphs - few weeks or months of peace and quiet - civilians start disappearing again. The soldiers could win every battle, but in the end still lose the war. Steve Perry's Earth Hive books showed this really well. Not sure how easy it would be for them to sneak aboard a ship and move to the next planet, but Varren and pyjacks seem to manage.  
Also, the ME style weapons have a drawback for fighting them: lack of sustained fire. Except for the Cerberus turrets, there is no real equivalent of a belt-fed machine gun. Even the turian gun turrets from ME3 only hold 50 shots. A sort of Zerg-rush attack, the way they show in flashbacks in the first AvP movie, could overrun the defenders.**


	15. Invasion, part 1

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Shanxi, command bunker**

"Here they come!"

General Williams studied the displays. They had been anticipating this moment ever since the alien fleet had arrived in the Shanxi system. Now he would see if the predictions they had made were correct.

"Looks like two groups sir. The larger one is going for the city; the other... looks like they plan to land directly at the spaceport."

Williams nodded. "Good." At least these turians seemd to be rather predictable. Shanx-city, the colony's capital, was of course the logical target as it was by far the largest population centre, holding more than half the current population of the entire planet. The spaceport had been a bit more of a guess. It was a major facility, certainly, built on a large scale in anticipation of the expected growth of the colonial population and economy. Still, with the aliens in control of the planetary orbit and the orbital station destroyed, it wasn't much use to anyone and if he had had to plan an invasion he would have been tempted to ignore it and let the defender waste his resources in garrisoning it. Still, the spaceport was a fairly obvious target, easily recognizable even for someone who had never seen human buildings before and he had stationed a considerable defensive force in and around the facility, hoping to draw the aliens in. So far that plan seemed to be succeeding.

"Sir, shall we attempt to intercept them?"

"No. Let them land." With the departure of the naval forces from Shanxi space, Williams' only offensive air asset was the squadron of Super-Cheyenne dropships, attached to his brigade group. However, they would be hopelessly outnumbered and, while they were capable of air-to-air combat, they wouldn't be a match for dedicated fighter craft. For the moment they were scattered around the countryside, carefully hidden from any prying eyes, and Williams didn't intend to throw them away in a futile attempt to shoot down a few shuttles. The aliens held the planetary orbits and would have air-supremacy, no matter what he did. Any resistance would have to occur on the ground.

* * *

**Shanxi, spaceport.**

Sergeant Kuros was nervous as the assault shuttle descended to the landing point. Of course he would never have admitted that to his soldiers, but deep inside, there was something about this situation that made him very uneasy. Sure, it wasn't his first combat mission, but until now his combat experience had been limited mainly to dealing with pirates and smugglers and cleaning out the occasional illegal quarian settlement. Large scale planetary invasion was something else entirely. Unfortunately, it was not something that any turian currently alive had much experience with. For that matter, even among the long-lived asari it was increasingly rare to find an individual with first hand experience of operations on this scale. It had simply been too long since citadel space had seen a major conflict. Normally, Kuros was happy enough to live in a galaxy were interplanetary war was the exception, rather than the rule, but right now it would have been good to have some people around who had done this sort of thing before and he couldn't help but wonder if this new species, these humans, might not have some more recent experience in these matters. That would not be a good thing.

The shuttle braked sharply and settled down on the ground. On both sides the doors opened and the soldiers jumped out, weapons at the ready. Kuros looked around, taking in the strange world, even as he looked for potential danger. The facility they had been tasked to occupy was a large spaceport, built near the colony's major city. It was an important strategic target and the invasion plan called for it to be seized as soon as possible. The shuttles had taken him and the rest of the platoon to the edge of a landing platform. It as not an ideal spot, because it would require them to cross a larg stretch of open space in order to reach the nearby hangars. Fortunately, whoever had designed this facility had apparently been extremely safety-conscious. The landing platform contained two concentric rings of vertical blast shields. Anything that could contain the engine wash of an spaceship as it took off could presumably stop small arms fire and they would serve as cover as the soldiers advanced. From behind him he could hear the whine of engines as the assault shuttle took off again. They would return to orbit and load up with the next wave of soldiers.  
For a moment all was quiet, then Kuros heard the characteristic rattling sound of Phaeston assault rifles**(*)** as a turian soldiers nearby opened fire on some unseen target. From somewhere further ahead came another sound, different yet similar. They had found the enemy.

**-o-o-o-**

The lieutenant commanding this platoon had landed with the shuttle next to Kuros' and took charge. Their immediate mission was to clear out the hangars adjacent to the landing platform. Once this was done they would link up with nearby units to sweep the entire spaceport. A quick talon signal from the lieutenant and the soldiers, including Kuros, swarmed over the platform.

Half a kilometre away, hidden inside one of the observation towers, a marine sniper peered through her scope. The invaders were weird looking, sort of a cross between a bird and a dinosaur. Still, some things never changed and the chain of command was one of them. One of the aliens lifted a hand, claw, whatever. The others obeyed instantly, fanning out over the landing platform. _Thank you, good to know who is in charge. _There was no need to check the distance, she already knew. Now, if birdface would just stand still...

Sergeant Kuros saw the lieutenant lift a talon, signalling the platoon to freeze where they were as he scanned the nearby buildings for possible danger. **Crrrack! **The distinctive sound of a supersonic projectile passing through the air was heard and the lieutenant's head vanished in a spray of blood and tissue.

"Sniper!"

The soldiers reacted instantly, diving for cover behind the raised blastshields.

Inside the a nearby hangar captain Joseph Denning, Shanxi militia, observed what happened. He too had identified the alien officer. As the turian went down, and the rest of the unit sought cover, he realized that he had an opportunity. A quick command and one of his soldiers threw a switch. On the platform, the blast shields, which had been fully raised when the invaders landed, started to move. The soldier flipped a second switch and the massive doors of the hangar building opened.

Kuros flinched as the shield that he had been hiding behind started to fold away from him. It was a clever trap. If the shield had been lowered from the beginning, the platoon would not have attempted to cross the landing platform. Now they were caught in the open, with no further cover.  
Before he could shout an order, large doors on the nearby building started to rise. From inside the building several vehicles rolled forward on massive wheels.

**-o-o-o-**

Of all the weapon systems that the Colonial Marines had brought with them when they merged into the United Systems military, the M577 Armoured Personnel Carrier was probably the least popular. It had been designed by Weyland-Yutani as a package deal together with their UD-4 Cheyenne dropships, which were designed to carry one of the APCs internally as they entered the atmosphere. It was a concept that looked great on paper and was demonstrated to a properly awed audience with a flight of dropships swooping down on the landing site, only to take off again within seconds while the APCs raced towards the target, guns blazing. Weyland-Yutani had made a fortune from the sale; the opinion of the Colonial Marines was never asked. Reality set in from the moment that the pair was put to actual use. While the Cheyenne functioned as advertised and proved itself time and again as a rugged, reliable, vehicle for inserting troops from orbit and supporting them once they were on the ground, the M577 was a disaster on wheels.  
In order to fit an APC inside the cargo-hold of the dropship, the designers had been faced with some pretty severe size restrictions, in particular in terms of height. The result was a low vehicle that had approximately the ground clearance of a sports car. When deployed on anything but the smoothest of surfaces, the M577 would inevitably get stuck, often damaging its drive-train in the process. A famous photograph, widely distributed over the net, had shown one of the APCs caught on a speedbump in an urban area, its four massive wheels spinning helplessly, while the marines tried to push it off the obstacle. While often derided as a fake, it had not helped the vehicle's reputation one bit. In addition to its abysmal terrain performance, the same size restrictions greatly impaired its combat abilities. The M577 carried two weapon turrets, both of them remotely controlled. The first sat on top, at the rear of the vehicle, but, because of the height limit. the turret was so low that the weapons could not be depressed. This resulted in a complicated, maintenance-intensive, and failure-prone design that allowed the entire turret to be raised if necessary. The second, a small turret carrying two gatling-style autocannon was mounted at the front and, while it could at least engage infantry close to the vehicle, it had a limited arc of fire, leaving the flanks and rear of the M577 unprotected. In addition, the APC was equipped with a small mortar, which, though useful against dug-in enemies, was an indirect-fire weapon and would be of no use if hostile infantry attacked at close range.  
As long as major corporations such as Weyland-Yutani and their stooges in the government controlled procurement, the marines had been stuck with this rolling death-trap. As soon as the political situation changed, they had gleefully rid themselves of it in favour of a new design. Of course, nothing was ever perfect and many considered its successor, the M29 Grizzly, to be a mistake in the opposite direction. Large and bulky, the six-wheeled Grizzly had excellent terrain performance and combat capabilities, but was too heavy to be carried to the surface by either a Cheyenne or the larger Viking dropships that the USM had recently adopted. Instead it required a cargo shuttle to get down to the planet. Plans for a second vehicle, the M35 Mako, which would once again be capable of quick insertion, had been pushed by military planners for a while, but had so far not yielded a working prototype. In anticipation of the Mako's eventual introduction the marines had offloaded most of their old M577s on the planetary militias, who, according to the marines, would never use them for anything but parades anyway. Now, after years of inactivity, the M577s would see action one more time, operating on what was arguably the only surface for which they were truly suited: a landing field.

**-o-o-o-**

For one moment sergeant Kuros wondered if they had accidentally stumbled across a krogan settlement. Then he realized that the approaching vehicles lacked the size of the Tuchanka-built Tomkahs and would be hard-pressed to accommodate krogan infantry. Then he stopped thinking altogether as a hail of bullets swept across the landing platform and cut him in half.

Each M577 carried two Republic Electric RE700 20mm Gatling cannons in its bow-turret. Each of these was fed from a 1700 round magazine carrying a mix of high explosive armoured piercing (HEAP) and anti-personnel flechette (APF) rounds. Uncertain as to the precise nature of their targets the gunners on each vehicle simply set one gun to the HEAP rounds and another to the flechettes, then opened fire and hoped for the best.  
The best was spectacular. Although the two rounds had vastly different ballistic properties, that was largely irrelevant at a range of less than a hundred meters. For that matter, so was the ammunition selection. Turian body armour and shields were good, but neither was capable of withstanding the onslaught that was unleashed on them. One moment a full platoon of turian soldiers was advancing across the landing platform, the next there were only fragments of flesh, bone and equipment lying in pools of blue blood.

The vehicles stopped for a moment, as the crews looked for additional targets. One spotted a turian shuttle, still sitting on a landing platform nearly a kilometre away. The top mounted turret swivelled around; its twin-barrelled cannon tracked the target and fired. This time the result was less impressive. Turian assault shuttles had been designed to deploy troops while under fire and could take a lot of damage. Still, the effect of two high explosive shells slamming into the hull was definitely sub-optimal. The pilot activated his engines and took off, nearly incinerating half a dozen soldiers nearby. The M577's gunner tried to track the shuttle, but his onboard fire-control system had been designed for use against vehicles on the ground, not fast-moving aircraft, and he was forced to watch as the shuttle disappeared over the horizon, trailing smoke while its pilot sought desperately for a safe place to land his damaged craft. Spotting no further enemies, the APCs retreated into the buildings, doors closing behind them.

The turian ground commander in charge of the assault observed the carnage from a distance and cursed viciously. By now he had lost nearly a company worth of soldiers to no real gain and it was clear that his troops lacked the necessary firepower to fight their way through. In such situations turian doctrine called for airpower to be applied, and a fighter wing was standing by to do just that. Half a dozen fighters swooped down on the hangars, pouring mass-accelerator fire into the doors. These had, for safety reasons, been designed to withstand the force of a nearby explosion. One door, which had either some defect in its structure or had not closed properly, broke under the barrage. The next salvo penetrated into the hangar and tore the lightly armoured APC inside to shreds. The other two doors withstood the turian fire.  
The commander observed the result of the airstrike. Clearly, using fighters to break open the human defences was going to be inefficient. The best he could hope for was that the fighters would keep the human vehicles contained in the buildings, but to do that they would have to hover over the battlefield, an extremely vulnerable position for which they had not been designed. He considered the alternatives. A frigate could certainly level the buildings and everything inside, but the fleet had already lost several frigates, which had been either destroyed completely or damaged to the point of ineffectiveness. Risking the remaining ships inside the atmosphere seemed like a bad idea at this point, especially since they had no knowledge of the ground-to-air defences. That left only one option. The commander activated his long-distance communicator and placed a call.

**-o-o-o-**

The turian military operated as a single entity. There was none of the inter-service rivalry that had plagued humanity for much of its history and if a turian had ever been told of a fiasco like the so-called `revolt of the admirals'**(**)**, he would certainly have pronounced the people involved to be utterly insane. It made for a very efficient fighting machine, with little internal bickering, that never felt the need to have multiple weapon systems fulfilling the same purpose. When a ground force commander required heavy firepower, he didn't need specialized vehicles; instead, he called for naval support. This could be handled directly between the turian on the ground and the captain of the ship, without having to pass through a chain of command. Furthermore, it was something that was anticipated as a matter of standard doctrine and the naval gunners had trained extensively to achieve the necessary accuracy. As soon as the ground force commander had made his request, he withdrew his troops to the minimal safe distance, sure in the knowledge that it would be sufficient to keep his soldiers safe. Several hundred kilometres up, a turian cruiser adjusted its position in orbit and aimed its broadside guns at the requested target coordinates. A few seconds passed as both crew and computers double-checked their firing solution, then the first salvo tore down through the atmosphere, followed by another, and another, each levelling a particular building.  
The defenders were spread out across the spaceport, having expected some form of orbital bombardment. Still, for many of them, militia and marine alike, death was instantaneous. Conventional wisdom held that dug-in troops could survive heavy bombardment with relatively light losses, but that had been before the days of orbital bombardment and mass accelerators. The buildings, which had sheltered them from hand weapons and the turian fighters, simply couldn't withstand this sort of firepower and the shockwaves from the impact alone were enough to kill anyone nearby. Only those who had so far stayed in hiding and had therefore not drawn any fire remained untouched. Unfortunately, the buildings weren't the only thing that failed to stand up to the bombardment.

Deep underneath the spaceport lay an extensive network of pipelines, connected to massive fuel tanks. These pipelines had been designed according to the latest safety regulations, which took into account the possibility that an orbital cargo shuttle would crash into the ground at high speed, rupturing one or more pipes. Therefore, the pipes were interrupted at regular intervals by safety valves that would ensure that any fuel leak would be limited to the amount that was currently in that segment of the pipe. It would also prevent a fire from spreading through the pipelines. If necessary the pipes could even be flooded with fire-retardant foam. It was a very good system. However, it was a civilian system, operated by civilians. It was designed to protect against accidents, or perhaps acts of sabotage, not against bombardment. The automated fire suppression system was something that only activated in case there was an actual fire and when the civilian operators evacuated the control room, they had not thought to pre-emptively fill the fuel pipes with foam.  
The first salvo of mass accelerator slugs tore into the spaceport, each round penetrating deep into the ground. It was inevitable that some of the fuel pipes would be damaged by the resulting shockwaves. That in itself was not a problem. The automated systems noted the damage and closed the nearest valves. The second salvo did the same, again the system took the appropriate measures, containing the damage. However, by now there was a small, but not insignificant, amount of fuel spreading out over the surface, spilled from the damaged pipes. When the third salvo slammed home, the inevitable happened. When a moving projectile hits a solid object part of its kinetic energy is converted into heat, and for relativistic projectiles the heat is considerable, in this case large enough to ignite the fuel that had spread out over one of the landing platforms. The local fire suppression system was no longer operative, in fact it no longer even existed, so the fire spread unchecked. Still the control system was able to take the necessary action, shutting down all nearby fuel lines.  
That was when the fourth salvo hit the ground. Again, fuel pipes ruptured and more fuel leaked out, allowing the fire to spread further over the surface, reaching yet other pools of fuel. The system that monitored the pipes was not designed to handle this. It should have been dealt with by human firefighters on the scene and the local fire-suppression system on the surface, but the former were absent and the latter had taken too much damage. Within seconds, multiple landing platforms were ablaze. Now the system went into emergency mode and opened the releases valves for the foam, an action that would normally have required a command from a human operator; but the foam distribution systems had suffered damage too.  
As turians and humans alike looked on in horror, a fifth salvo slammed into the ground. This time rupturing one of the main fuel tanks. A geyser of highly flammable material burst into the air, filling the nearby atmosphere with a fine mist of fuel droplets. For a few seconds nothing happened while the turian groundforce commander screamed into his communicator to stop the bombardment. Then the fuel mist reached the fire.

So-called fuel air explosives had been developed on earth during the second half of the twentieth century as a means to generate massive explosions without resorting to politically unacceptable nuclear weapons. Their popularity had not lasted very long as military focus changed toward low-intensity conflict where that sort of large-scale destruction was not desirable. Still, until the advent of mass effect powered weaponry, they had held the record for being the most destructive conventional weapons mankind had ever produced. The mist of fuel droplets detonated with a force that put the orbital bombardment to shame, levelling several of the still standing buildings and sending a sheet of flame up into the air. It also ruptured those fuel tanks that had not yet been breached, releasing yet more fuel into the air, only to be detonated in turn.

In and around the spaceport itself, no-one, neither human nor turian, survived. The lucky ones had been killed instantly by the shockwaves, or were crushed to death by falling debris. The less fortunate ones died more slowly as burning fuel covered the area. The material damage was enormous too, as an area of several square kilometres was instantly reduced to rubble. It was fortunate that the spaceport had been built far away from the nearest population centre, but, even so, buildings in the capital city of Shanxi shook as the blast of the explosion reached them and soldiers on both sides, who had only just come into contact, stopped fighting and looked in astonishment at the towering mushroom cloud that rose up at the horizon.

* * *

Inside his command bunker general Williams stared white-faced at his subordinates as he received the news. While he had always known the spaceport could not be held indefinitely against a determined attack, he had hoped to pin down significant enemy forces in a protracted fight. To achieve that result Williams had committed a significant force in and around the spaceport. Now they were gone, destroyed in an instant, and the fact that a significant number of the enemy soldiers had undoubtedly perished with them was cold comfort compared to the loss of three marine companies and two battalions of militia. Moreover, with the spaceport utterly destroyed, the enemy would no longer need to waste time and resources to occupy that area and would be able to redirect any reinforcements to other parts of the combat theatre.

From the bridge of his dreadnought, the HNV Righteous Fury, general Arterius too looked in horror at the massive explosion that was clearly on his ship's optical sensors. More than five hundred turian soldiers had perished in the blast. That was bad enough, but there was more. He needed this planet as a bargaining chip at the negotiation table. Large scale destruction of groundbased installations would reduce its value and lead to demands for reparations.

"No more!" He snarled. "Send a massage to all troops. From now on, they are limited to frigate support. Any request for orbital bombardment has to be approved by me, personally!"

* * *

**Geneva, Earth**

_"This is John McReily, for Westerlund News. We have just received word that Patricia Hammerstein, chairwoman of the United Systems Assembly and secretary general of the United Nations, has been found dead in her apartment. While the authorities have so far refused to release any further information, inside sources tell us that ms. Hammerstein has taken her own life. So far we can only speculate as to what could have driven ms. Hammerstein to take such a drastic step, but it seems likely that both the shocking news from our colony on Shanxi, as well as USM chief of staff, general Spears, calling for her resignation must have weighed heavily on her during these difficult times. One can only imagine the amount of pressure-"_

"Damn!" General Spears felt a strong urge to throw his glass at the screen as the reporter went into tragedy mode, producing one platitude after another. "Why don't they just elevate her to saint-hood while they're at it? This is not good, Harper. We needed Hammerstein as a scapegoat."

Harper glanced at the irate general.

"So? One doesn't have to be alive to be a scapegoat, general. While this is, of course, a tragedy, it also means that ms Hammerstein can no longer interfere in our plans. On top of that, it will throw her allies into confusion, at least for a little while. Meanwhile, you are still well positioned to take control of the situation."

"And what if the public opinion turns against me? Already they're suggesting that I was the one who drove her to suicide. If Hammerstein becomes a martyr to the cause of peace-"

"Ah, yes," Harper said softly. "the threat that has kept both governments and rebels alike from doing what they needed to do: the fear of creating a martyr. Let me tell you something, general: there is a big advantage to turning your enemies into martyrs. They are, by definition, dead." He shrugged. "In any case, you have no need for concern. All the evidence is in place. We just need to wait for local authorities to stumble upon it. Once they do, well, let's just say that ms Hammerstein's sanctification will most likely be put on permanent hold. Don't worry general, everything is going according to plan."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A/N: I recently watched a marathon session of 'Seconds from disaster' episodes and decided to incorporate some of that stuff. It makes for a nice earth-shattering Kaboom.**

**(*) Strictly speaking, the Phaeston assault rifle is a design with thermal clip and shouldn't exist yet. However, I've kept the name. Here the turians have Phaestons, but they still use internal heat-sinks. My assumption is that the hierarchy would simply adapt an existing design to use clips at some time between ME1 and ME2, rather than designing a new weapon.**

**(**) The 'revolt of the admirals' occurred shortly before the war in Korea. Details can be found on the wikipedia page. It makes for interesting reading. **

**About the M577: The prop vehicle for the movie was actually designed around an aircraft tractor, so a spaceport would seem like the one place where it might be effective. Honestly, it looks cool, but an APC with the ground clearance of a Lamborghini...? I've replaced the top mounted plasma guns with something like the cannon found on the MAKO. Same firepower, different method. We never see any plasma guns in actual use in the Alien films (they only get mentioned in the wiki), so it doesn't matter much, and plasma weapons seem a bit out of place among the generally rugged, simple weapon designs that the Alien franchise favours. Besides, I want to keep plasma weapons as something unique for the Predators. Otherwise I copied the technical details from the AvP wiki.**


	16. 30 pieces of silver

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Geneva, Earth, 24 hours after the death of chairwoman Hammerstein.**

Louise Kalmann was unhappy. That was nothing new, really. When she had been promoted to her current position, personal assistant to the chief of police, she had though it would mean a major career boost; a high profile job that would involve meeting important, influential people. Instead, she found herself splitting her time between writing reports her new boss was too lazy to write for himself, and dodging his wandering hands. Still, the job did have its perks. It allowed her to blend into the background and listen while other people talked. Such as right now. The shouting match in the chief's office had been going on for almost five minutes with little sign of it being over any time soon.

"We cannot suppress this!" That was detective Mannheim, clearly audible, even through the closed door. "It will come out anyway and we'll look like accomplishes."

"We have to!" That was the chief. A bit weaker than Mannheim, but not much. "We have a responsibility to maintain order; Do you know what will happen if this gets out now? The whole city will be in chaos. No, the whole planet!"

"And that won't happen if they find out later?"

"There is no need for that. Right now, nobody knows, except the people in this room. All we have to do-" The chief's voice faded away.

**-o-o-o-**

It had taken more than an hour before the meeting ended. Detective Mannheim and his partner had left, Mannheim still looking furious. The chief had stayed in his office, with the door closed. That was rare. Normally he would have tossed Louise the recording of the meeting and told her to write a summary. This time he had chosen either to do it himself, which was unlikely; or he had decided not to write a report at all, which was contrary to procedure. When he finally left, he had been in a bad mood and too preoccupied even to leer at her, a sure sign that his mind was elsewhere. Now she was sitting behind his desk, wondering what to do next.

Louise hesitated. As the chief's assistant she had access to his account. Strictly speaking that was against the rules, but the chief had given her access so it would be easier for her to do his work for him. She had never abused that privilege to satisfy her personal curiosity, but this time... She could feel that something was wrong. Very wrong.  
Curiosity won the day. A few key-strokes and she was in. Initially she accessed the chief' calendar, which she had done many times before. If anyone questioned what she had done, she could always insist that she simply wished to make sure that there would be no scheduling conflicts and let the chief explain how she had obtained his password. After checking the schedule, she did a quick file-search, just to see if any new files had been added. This was more dangerous, but could still be explained away. Most of the recent changes were meaningless, but there were a couple of new files.  
She hesitated again. This was it. One more command and the files appeared on the screen. The first was meaningless, the second just a list of activities, the third- Her eyes narrowed as she looked at it.

**-o-o-o-**

Louise slowly drained the glass of water she had poured for herself. It had taken her the better part of an hour to put the pieces of the puzzle together and another hour to wipe out, as best she could, all traces that she had accessed her boss's computer. Now she was done. She knew what the detectives had discovered. She also knew why the chief wanted to keep this under wraps. The question remained: what to do about it?

* * *

**Geneva, The next day**

Louise looked at the man sitting across form her at the restaurant table. Marcus Santino was not a man who stood out, nor would he be recognized by any of the restaurant's other patrons, and yet he was arguably one of the most influential reporters in Geneva, perhaps even on earth. As personal assistant to the chief of police Louise had learned a lot about the media. Enough to understand that there were really two types of reporters. There were those who stood in front of cameras while in the background 'important things' happened, or who sat at a news desk and commented on whatever the person in front of the camera was saying. Santino was not that kind of reporter. For one thing, he didn't look pretty enough; for another, there was no way he would be able to manage the sad-and-concerned-yet-still-grimly-determined-to-do-his-job look that those reporters probably practised in front of a mirror. The only thing Santino was concerned about was his paycheck, and it showed. He was the other kind of reporter. The kind that made sure that the talent in front of the camera had something to talk about. His talent lay in finding prime stories and selling them to the highest bidder; and the numbers on those high bids could be quite impressive. That was why Louise had chosen him from all the reporters in town to make the deal. That, and the fact that he was absolutely discreet.

"So," she said. "let's talk."

Santino simply lifted an eyebrow.

"How much are you willing to pay for a top story?"

This time Santino actually smiled. "Quite a lot, but what makes you think that your story is anywhere near the top?"

Now it was Louise' turn to smile. "How often have I contacted you, since you first handed me your business cards?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Do you really think, that the one time that I take a risk like this, the kind of risk that could send me to jail for years, by the way, I would do it for anything but a top story?"

"Probably not, but then again, the fact that you think you have something worthwhile doesn't necessarily mean that you're right."

"But, let's suppose, hypothetically, that I can give you an absolute top story: worldwide news, the kind that will run for weeks. What would you pay?"

"Hypothetically?" He wrote a number in his note book and turned it around so she could see. It contained an impressve number of zeros.

Louise smiled again. "Put another zero behind it and we may have a deal."

For the first time, Santino actually looked surprised. "That's a lot of money."

"I know."

"Even if I were willing, or able, to pay such an amount. How could I possibly know that I'd get anything near that value in return?"

Louise had spent most of the morning preparing herself for this meeting. This was, of course, the problem. As long as Santino didn't know what he was buying, he would not pay; but as soon as he had the information, there would be no need for him to pay. So, she had to give him just enough to wet his appetite.

"How about we make a deal. I describe the kind of information I have. You evaluate it's worth. Then we make a trade."

"Fair enough. What do you have?"

Louise hesitated. This was it. So far she was safe. Accessing the chief's files was a violation of protocol, but so far there was no reason anyone would find out, and even if they id, the chief would be more to blame than she. After all, the security of his account was his responsibility and he had already messed up by giving her access. Even if this came out, she would probably suffer no more than a reprimand. However, if she continued, the next sentence would put her firmly on the wrong side of at least a dozen laws and regulations. She took a deep breath.

"I can tell you why Hammerstein killed herself. If it was suicide, that is."

Santino froze, then very carefully, he picked up a small morsel of food and started chewing. His eyes never left her face.

It took at least thirty seconds before he said, cautiously, "I didn't realize that was in doubt. So far all that we have heard is that it was a suicide, not even the method."

"OD,"Louise said coolly. "A mixture of anti-depressants, recreational drugs, and alcohol. Note that I'm giving you that for free."

"So noted. And why would there be doubt about the suicide?"

Louise shrugged. "Hammerstein had no prescription for the anti-depressants and there is no record that she even visited either a doctor or a pharmacy recently. Also, she didn't have a history of substance abuse. Then again, politicians like to keep such things secret and there is no sign that anyone was with her when she took them. So, no evidence either way."

"I see. And the motive?"

Louise smiled. "Now we're getting into things that cost money. Let's just say that if other people knew what I know now... Well, there would be plenty of motive for killing her. Then again, if she thought these things would come out, she may have decided to stay one step ahead of the lynching mob."

"That bad?"

"Oh, yes."

"And you can prove this, how?" Santino's face still registered only polite interest, but she could almost hear his brain work as he considered various possibilities.

"I have a copy, a scan, not an electronic copy, of data that the police found yesterday. They're planning to keep it hidden, at least for now, for fear of what will happen when it comes out. I also have description of how they found it, so you can verify for yourself."

Santino thought for a moment. Then he scratched out the number he had originally written and wrote a knew one. "This is the maximum I can authorize right now. Anything more, and I would have to contact a major network to obtain funds. If what you have is as hot as you say, I wouldn't advice that."

Louise didn't believe him for a moment. Still, it was a very nice amount of money.

"It will do."

"Good. Just be careful not to spend it too quickly. They'll be searching for the leak for a very long time."

Louise nodded. "Don't worry. When this comes out, there will be a an upheaval in the police department. When that happens, I will be reassigned at least, maybe even fired. Either way, it will not come as a surprise if I start to explore new career options. Perhaps move to a different city, or even off-world. That should cover our tracks."

Santino pulled out a small tablet and started to type in commands. A few moments later he inserted a credit chip. He turned the screen around so she could watch as he made the final authorization and withdrew the chip.

"It's loaded. Now, what exactly do you have?"

Louise held up her own tablet. For centuries those had come with an built-in camera, which had come in very handy. "Take a look."

Santino's eyes narrowed. "This is a financial statement. Hammerstein's?"

"Ultimately, yes. It goes through several ghost accounts, but, like I said, I can give you the connections. It's from an investment company, basically a hedge fund. Look at the transaction: Exogeni sold, Weyland-Yutani bought. That was a couple of weeks ago. Then, three days ago, another share swap: Weyland-Yutani sold, Exogeni bought. Both swaps were for the same absolute value. Check the stock values."

Santino was typing furiously on his tablet, looking at the market logs. His eyes widened.

"Good god! She must have ended up with nearly ten times as many shares as she started with."

"Indeed. News of the discovery of aliens sent Exogeni shares up, because alien biology is one of their key research areas. Hammerstein sold Exogeni a few days later. Weyland-Yutani has been on a decline recently because of the military cutbacks, so she could get those shares cheap."

"Except that with the threat of alien invasion those shares started climbing."

"Yes. Then the aliens hit Shanxi. Guess who is one of the major investors in that colony?"

"Exogeni."

"Right again. They just lost one of their major research and manufacturing sites. Exogeni shares plummeted. Hammerstein pretty much got them for free. So, without spending a centicredit, she basically turned every share she owned into ten shares. Of course there is a financial risk: Unless something changes, Exogeni may actually go under in the near future. Except the government won't allow that, so they will either receive a major government bail-out, or, more likely, be placed under government control."

Santino laughed softly. "And Hammerstein was in the perfect position to make sure that it happened. Either way the value will rise and by the time the shares are back at a reasonable value, Hammerstein would have picked up at least fifty million credits."

"Exactly. So, my question is: why would she commit suicide? She was safe. The police only found this because they were looking anyway after her suicide. If she had done nothing, nobody would have known that there was anything worth looking at."

"Unless somebody was already looking." Santino said softly. "Someone who was wondering why she was had delayed military aid for Shanxi. If such a person found this and threatened exposure-"

"She would have been torn limb from limb." Louise agreed. "Forget about police protection, forget about bodyguards or security. Hell, most people on earth approved of the delays; but not for money. If it got out that she sold out six million human beings just to make a quick buck..."

Santino slid the credit chip across without taking his eyes off the share values.

"Let me make a copy of this, and the trace information."

"You're satisfied then?"

"Oh yes. This is explosive. Westerlund has been dominating the news cycle with their saint-Hammerstein approach. There are at least three other networks that would love to have a new angle and this... this will blow Westerlund out of the water. They'll be a laughing stock for years to come. And you said the police wanted to keep this under wraps?"

"Of course! The department prides itself on its political sensitivity. There are at least two dozen Assembly members who actively aided Hammerstein with her delays. Those people will be very grateful if the chief can keep this out of the news."

"Right. Of course. I'm sure that they would be very grateful." Santino smiled again. This time the expression was anything but friendly. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few calls to make."

* * *

**That same evening, life broadcast**

"Welcome everyone!" The show's host smiled, showing a considerable number of brilliant white teeth. "With us tonight in the studio is general Thomas Spears, the United Systems Military's chief of staff."

There was a smattering of applause as Spears smiled politely at the camera, before resuming his usual earnest-and-concerned look. He'd had a lot of practice with that look lately.

"General," the host continued. "It has now been several days since the navy's withdrawal from Shanxi. Can you tell the viewers what our current situation is? How safe is humanity?"

Spears surpressed a grimace. Talking to this sort of supposedly "expert" commentators was in many ways even worse than talking to reporters in general. Still, he had little choice. With Hammerstein's death everything had ground to a halt, but eventually the wheels of government would start turning again. When that happened, he had to be in a position to put pressure on the politicians, and for that he needed public support. So, he had to stay in the public eye, and with the mainstream media focussing on the human drama of Hamerstein's suicide, expert panels were about the only place where he could look good.

"Right now, Arcturus is safe," he answered. "Second fleet is at full strength. Unless these turians receive major reinforcements, they don't have the strength to fight their way out of the Arcturus relay and past admiral Drescher's forces. Unfortunately, that is the only good news. The second relay, near Thedus, is still exposed. Right now, we only have a scratch team of destroyers and rapid deployment vessels covering that relay. If the aliens attack in force, that will not suffice, and once the turians have control of that relay, they will simply have too many options. They can attack Thedus and the surrounding colonies, or they can use the relay to jump further along our frontier. We cannot even begin to cover all those systems."

"And earth? Surely earth is secure."

Spears snorted. "Hardly! Without a formal declaration of war, we are still hampered by peace-time limitations. First fleet is only at half strength. The rest is in reserve and will take weeks to activate. Even if we received the necessary authorization today earth would not be safe for at least another month."

"I see-" The reporter fell silent as he listened to the voice that came from her ear-piece. He was a skilled professional, who knew he was on life television and understood the need to present the correct image. Even so for a moment his face only registered blank astonishment.

"General Spears," he said at last. "I apologize for asking a question that is not directly related to this subject. However, we have just received an astonishing piece of news and I would very much appreciate your comment. Are you aware, that a police investigation has turned up evidence that Patricia Hammerstein, the late chairwoman of the Assembly of the United Systems, played the stockmarket in order to gain financially from the Shanxi crisis?"

* * *

"A hedge fund?"

"Like I said, general. Greed is a wonderful motive. It's so... understandable. A simple line graph showing the stock values, a few dates, and even the dumbest viewer can grasp what Hammerstein was up to."

"And if they check the time-stamps on the transactions? If there is even the slightest doubt about this-"

Harper smiled. "I can assure you, general, that everything will check out, no matter how deep they search."

Spears felt a sudden chill. It was less than two weeks since he had handed Harper a credit chip with funds to set up whatever he had in mind to discredit Hammerstein. Either Harper had penetrated the financial system to an extend that was supposed to be impossible, in order to fake the dates, or the hedge fund had already been in place; and if that was the case... The general couldn't help but wonder how many such account might exist, ready to be linked to whatever individual Harper set his sights on.

"I suppose it is fortunate, after all, " he said slowly. "that ms Hammerstein had the good grace to remove herself before this came out. It saves us a very nasty public trial. Still, it's almost as though she was expecting to be exposed. People may wonder about that."

"I'm sure they will, general. In fact, I expect that there will be conspiracy theories about Hammerstein's demise for many years to come, but that doesn't matter. What matters is, that we use this moment in time to take charge of the government. That is your task general. I've created the opportunity, now it's up to you to seize it."

Spears nodded. "I know. By this time tomorrow, there will be utter chaos in streets. Not just here, but everywhere on the planet. Once the news reaches the colonies it will be even worse. They'll want to secede. We have to head that off and quickly. And there is another aspect to it as well. Already politicians are fleeing the city. If too many of them go into hiding, we may not have enough assembly members available to vote on anything."

"And so?"

"And so, we need to direct people's attention elsewhere. With Hammerstein out of the way, and her supporters in chaos, the assembly will go along with anything that will keep them from getting lynched. So, all that remains is convincing the mob not to kill them."

Harper nodded. "I take it you have a plan, general?"

"I do. There is one proven way of deflecting the anger of a mob: you show them another target."

"The aliens."

"Exactly."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A/N No battle this time, but I wanted this part of the plot wrapped up. Next chapter: the battle for Shanxi continues.**

**I'm playing a bit with the way a hedge fund actually works, but there is quite a bit of variation, even today. Who knows what may be possible in the future.**

**Regarding the xenomorphs. I have thought about turning them loose on the citadel, but I'm not sure yet. That is really a point of no return. Once they're lose on a space station you may as well blow it up. There is just no way to get rid of them completely.  
About the terror factor: That is certainly important. It's arguably the most terrifying SciFi creation ever. Not sure though if it will work on every other species. For us it is so effective, because it triggers some very elementary responses. Another species may be less susceptible because they lack the right perspective. The sexual component may just be less relevant to a species like the salarians, and a non-humanoid species like the hanar may not notice it at all. Then again, they take on characteristics of the host. Perhaps the terror factor will go with it (Not sure what a hanar-xenomorph would be like, but it is an interesting thought)**


	17. Invasion, part 2

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Turian headquarters (temporary) Shanxi city, Shanxi**

The small command post had been set up in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the human city, near enough to the actual front line that the occasional burst of automatic fire could be hear din the distance, though it seemed that the fighting had died down somewhat. Colonel Macrus' mandibles flared in a turian sigh as he studied the map in front of him. His soldiers had become stuck, again. It wasn't the first time and he strongly suspected that it wouldn't be the last. Initial progress had been good. As his regiment entered the major city of the human colony, they had encountered little to no resistance. Then, the trouble started. Urban combat was arguably the most unpleasant form of warfare imaginable, but it appeared that they had found the one species in the universe that positively loved it. There seemed to be a sniper on every rooftop, an ambush behind every corner; and even if these weren't actually present, his soldiers had to proceed as thought they were there, causing endless delays. So far the regiment had been fighting street to street for two days and they had little to show for their efforts. On top of that, it wasn't just the actions of enemy troops that were causing problems; it was the city itself.  
The outlying areas, apparently living quarters of some kind, were singularly uniform. There was little to no variation in the building style, which had resulted in turian patrols wandering aimlessly, trying to find their way through streets that all looked alike. Once they entered the buildings it got worse. In citadel space, centuries of trade, migration, and exchange of ideas had led to a certain level of conformism in architecture and design. You could walk into a building on any given planet and be reasonably sure were everything was and how everything worked. Unfortunately, nobody had informed these humans, who had decided to do things their own way. This resulted in endless delays as turian soldiers wasted their time trying to open doors that weren't even locked and operate elevators that seemed to have their controls in all the wrong places. It had also let to several unnecessary losses when soldiers entered darkened rooms only to be gunned down while they were trying to find a light switch.  
That thought brought Macrus back to the defenders themselves. Initially they had seemed like easy prey. Physically they were not particularly impressive and their equipment had seemed incredibly primitive. Unfortunately, first impressions had been wrong. It wasn't so much that the human equipment was inferior, as that it was completely different. For example, they seemed to lack any form of personal element zero technology, which resulted in a complete absence of either personal shields or cloaks. The lack of shields was indeed a disadvantage, however, the lack of cloaking gear had been compensated for. The human soldiers were dressed in drab uniforms, sporting a mix of grey, green and brown colours that allowed them to blend in with their environment. It didn't provide the same level of stealth as a proper infiltrator style cloak, but it was permanent, rather than temporary; could be used by anyone; and certainly had to be a lot cheaper to produce. The body armour itself was not all that impressive, resembling the outfits of asari commandos more than the hard-scale armour of turian soldiers, but that too turned out to have certain advantages. The humans didn't just resemble the asari in facial structure, their bodies seemed to be similar as well. As a result, a human soldier in flexible armour could fold himself into a space that no turian, even without hard-scale armour, could possibly enter. This had led to unpleasant surprises as the advancing troops found themselves under attack from areas that they could not possibly fit into. As to the weapons... His eyes were drawn to an assault rifle lying on a table nearby. It had been picked up by an enterprising soldier and brought to headquarters for inspection, which had led to something of a religious experience for many of the officers.

It was an ongoing joke that the turian hierarchy, arguably the most militaristic government in citadel space, had never been able to provide its soldiers with personal weapons that did them justice. Not that the Phaeston assault rifle was a bad design. It provided its user with a weapon that was reliable, moderately easy to control while using automatic fire, and delivered decent firepower with an acceptable accuracy. It's main drawback was that it was just plain boring. It didn't really excel at anything, it simply worked; no more, no less. Again, the humans clearly designed their weapons to a different standard. Initially, Macrus had been astonished to learn that the humans still used chemically powered rounds in their weapons. Astonishment had quickly given way to a grudging respect as he realized the implications. Where a mass effect based assault rifle had almost infinite ammunition, the chemically powered ones had to be reloaded on a regular basis. However, this was off-set by the fact that they did not overheat. Time and again turian soldiers had to duck into cover while their weapons cooled down, a dangerous situation in the short range combat of urban warfare, where an enemy soldier could quickly close the distance and engage his opponent with hands or talons.  
A human soldier who had shot his weapon empty could reload within seconds and keep fighting. The implications were far-reaching. Human soldiers could put out a staggering amount of firepower. Each individual round might be relatively weak -although even that had been at least partially compensated for with specialized ammunition- but the shear volume of fire was overwhelming. To make matters worse, the weapon actually had a secondary option, which allowed a soldier to launch a grenade with high accuracy. So far, no one had been able to fully comprehend how these worked, but they seemed to come in several forms, exploding either on contact, or at a set distance**(*). **And, just in case this wasn't enough, the rifle carried a blade, attached to the barrel, which allowed the user to engage anyone who had managed to survive both the bullets and the grenades in hand to hand combat. Add it all up, and you had a weapon that seemed to have been designed by a mad salarian scientist, at the request of an asari commando, with input from a krogan battlemaster.

Between the standard problems of urban warfare, and the firepower of the defenders, frontal attacks on human defensive positions were simply an ugly way to commit suicide, and since they knew their own city much better than their opponents, they could position themselves in such a way that any large scale advance by turian troops inevitably ended in just such a frontal assault. Macrus had tried using air support to break through, but it had not worked. A fighter on a strafing run simply wasn't effective against individual soldiers hiding in and around buildings. Unless they were willing to reduce the entire city to rubble the battle would have to be won on the ground and so far that didn't seem likely. Macrus had entered the city with nearly two-thousand soldiers. By now he was down to about seventeen hundred. At least half his casualties would not live to fight again, ever, and he was no closer to actually achieving his objectives than when he started. Nor did any of the other regiments that were trying to push their way into the city seem to have any better luck. It was time to change the game.

"Send in the specialist teams."

* * *

**Suburbs, Shanxi City**

"There it is, first floor, second window from the left!"

Corporal McKinney, colonial marine corps, levelled his M56 and released a short burst into the indicated window. There was no way to tell how effective it had been, but one way or another, whoever had been moving around in that room would be keeping their heads down for a while.

"Anything else?"

"Not right now, corporal. All seems to be clear."

"Good."

He released the front grip of his gun and let it fold back against his body. The M56 smart guns were heavy bastards to move around, even with the help of a body harness. Still, they were marvelous weapons when defending against infantry assaults, especially against an enemy who didn't seem to have an equivalent weapon.  
MacKinney shook his head. These aliens were just plain weird. On the one hand, some of their equipment was incredibly advanced, on the other there seemed to be some serious gaps that were just begging to be exploited. For one thing, they seemed to lack any weapon capable of sustained fire relying instead purely on the assault rifle of the individual soldiers. Also, none of them seemed to have heard of the concept of basic camouflage. Of course their body armour, all composed of hard scales, didn't lend itself very well to blending in with the environment, but even so, they could at least have tried, or, even better, covered the whole thing with a ghillie suit. Instead they walked around in gleaming plate armour that advertised their presence to anyone who wanted to look. It didn't help, that they were being weighed down with all kinds of high-end tools, all of which drew power. This meant that they needed an internal power-source, which showed up brightly on an infrared scope.

Still, not all the news was good. The alien armour might have been flashy, it was also tough as hell. Where it usually didn't take more than three or four rounds to dispatch an enemy, the aliens sometimes took twice as much without going down. That could be a major advantage. An alien soldier who took a bullet could actually risk standing still and returning fire, rather than diving for cover; and the marine who shot him had to expose himself to enemy fire to score additional hits. Not a good thing, especially against the high velocity rounds from the alien assault rifles that tore through body armour with little difficulty. Worse, at least some of them seemed to carry some sort of personal shielding, like a miniature form of the shields on space ships and fighter craft. Those took at least half a dozen more bullets before they dropped. Ammunition expenditure was way up from what had been expected, making the smart guns with their large internal magazines even more crucial than normal.  
The marines were learning, though. Snipers were going for head shots whenever they could and many of the marines were now using the rifled grenade launchers on their Lacrimae assault rifles in a direct anti-personnel role. It might seem wasteful to use a grenade against a single enemy soldier, but if the alternative was wasting half a magazine worth of bullets, it started to make sense.

* * *

The Ghost team crept slowly from building to building, using their cloaks whenever they had to cross open ground. It was a slow, boring process, but sergeant Krylon was happy, or at least as happy as he ever got, which wasn't very much. So far the specialist teams had been kept out of the fighting. There had not been all that many of them available when the fleet had set out and the officers in charge were loath to risk the highly trained soldiers unnecessarily. Now, it had become necessary. The line infantry was hopelessly stuck, unable to advance, and it seemed that they were now satisfied to stay wherever they were and trade the occasional shot with the defenders. Krylon had snorted with contempt when he had heard the news. Hierarchy soldiers stopped cold by a handful alien scum on some backwater planet. Disgraceful! He had barely listened to the briefing that one of the line officers had given his team. People always made excuses for failure. It was time to show these rookies how these things should be done.

"Sergeant! We have spotted them!" One of his soldiers pointed to a low building overlooking the nearby crossroads. "They are occupying the ground floor."

"How many?"

"Six to eight. mainly armed with assault rifles, but there is at least one heavy weapon."

"Sniper rifle?"

"No, sergeant. Heavy automatic fire. A lot of it."

Krylon nodded briefly. That must be the 'heavy firepower' that the conscripts kept whining about. He studied the terrain. The location was awkward. The human position effectively controlled the crossroads. To engage the human soldiers his team would have to cross the street, and their cloaks might time out before they made it all the way across, leaving them exposed.

"Listen up. We'll move about a hundred meters down the street, cross there under cloak, then double back.

**-o-o-o-**

Corporal, I swear I saw something move, but..."

McKinney hesitated. It was not impossible that the marine had been deceived by his own eyes. The longer you watched, the more likely that imagination started to fill in the blanks, making you see things that just weren't there. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. There had been no contact with the enemy for nearly an hour and it seemed unlikely that they would just pack up and go home. Sneaking around to take the human defenders in the flank or in the back, well, that seemed to be a far more likely course of action.

"We'll check it out. One man with me. We'll move through the backyards for one block, than turn back to the main street. The rest, keep an eye out and warn me the moment anything happens."

Followed by one of the marines, McKinney snuck out the back door, his heavy gun at the ready.

**-o-o-o-**

The Ghosts had crossed the street without being spotted and were on their way back. They had re-activated their cloaks and where looking for a place to find cover form which they could make the final assault on the human-occupied building. The sudden appearance of two human marines, coming out of a small alley between the buildings cam as an unpleasant surprise. The rear-most turian, acting more on instinct than thought, typed a quick series of commands into his omnitool, overloading the heavy weapon on the first marine, then, even as he de-cloaked, fired a long burst of automatic fire into the second human. It was a sound tactic: disable one opponent, then kill the second, then go turn to kill the first before he could recover. He had practised it endlessly and used it successfully in combat many times. This time should be no different.

**-o-o-o-**

McKinney cursed as his computer sight went dark. This was NOT the moment for malfunctions. The next instant his eyes went wide as the air in front of him seemed to ripple and one of the aliens, covered head to toe in heavy armour, suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere. Shots rang out and he felt, more than saw, the marine beside him go down. His finger closed on the trigger.  
Whatever they had done to his weapon, the firing mechanism worked just fine. The M56 spat out a stream of bullets, catching the alien in the torso. At this range the body armour was all but useless and the heavy bullets nearly cut him in half. More of the air seemed to move and McKinney swung his smart gun around, bullets flying in all directions

The remaining turians had seen what happened, and had understood what their squad-mate was doing. While the outcome was unexpected, it took only a moment for them to realize that not only had the overload failed to even delay the human from firing, but also that the shear volume of fire coming out of the strange weapon was not something that they should be dealing with at close range. Two of the Ghosts dashed across the streets, their cloaks failing under the impact of several bullets. Their armour held long enough for them to reach cover. Sergeant Krylon was too close to the human. He saw the barrel of the massive gun swing back toward him. Instinctively he activated the jets on his armour, leaping up toward the roof of the building.

McKinney watched as the alien jumped up. "What the hell?" He snarled. "They have jet-packs too?"

He aimed his M56 again, trying to get a clear shot, but the angle worked against him and the alien disappeared over the rooftop. From a hundred meters further down the street another marine, who had been posted on a rooftop to serve as lookout, noticed the turian jumping up onto the roof, saw she had a clear field of fire, raised her assault rifle, and fired a single grenade.

Mass effect technology was marvelous and its application were widespread. However, it came with a downside: it was so useful, that people who had it often forgot to look for alternatives. Armour penetration was one of the areas where mass effect tech truly dominated and the hierarchy had long since stopped the development of alternatives. Sergeant Krylon had never heard of plastic explosives, nor would the acronym HESH** (**)** have meant anything to him. This oversight in his education was rectified for the last seconds of his life as the 20 mm grenade slammed into his armour.  
Rather than penetrating, the explosive shell stuck to the surface and detonated, sending a shock-wave through the hard scale armour that had been designed to stop fast-moving projectiles, not nearby explosions. In doing so it tore numerous small shards off the inside of the plate and send them flying, straight through the sergeant's body. He bled to death before anyone could reach him. When help finally came the soldiers were astonished to find that the sergeant's armour, though scorched and dented, still seemed intact. Only when a medic managed to pry him out of his armour did anyone realize how he had died.

Down on the street McKinney knelt by his fallen squad-mate, but one look was enough to see that nothing could be done. He activated his helmet radio.

"Pass the word. They have some sort of stealth gear. It's like your looking straight through them. Check infrared scopes and motion detectors."

_That's why they don't use camouflage paint. _He realized._ The bastards came up with a fancy trick to make themselves completely invisible and didn't bother with the low-tech solutions anymore._

**-o-o-o-**

Not everyone reacted equally well to the news. Less than a kilometre from McKinney's position a platoon of local militia, holding a small square, thought they spotted movement. Tired and already on edge from two days of waiting for the enemy to appear, they cut loose with smart guns and assault rifles in an attempt to saturate the area with bullets. It took nearly five minutes before their commanding officer managed to restore a semblance of discipline and buy that time they had shot off nearly a day's worth of ammunition. Desperate to avoid further panic, the lieutenant went from one position to the next in an attempt to reassure his troops. It was brave and might have worked, but also served to make him stand out. A single shot rang out and the lieutenant's head seemed to disappear in a small explosion. It was too much for the soldiers. First one, then another abandoned their positions, running away from the invisible enemy.

On a roof-top nearby a single turian Ghost smirked as he stroked his sniper rifle, waiting for it to cool down. A whole platoon routed with a single shot. It was a feat worthy of the salarian STG. Minutes later a turian infantry unit, moving cautiously through the streets, entered the square and occupied the abandoned position.

A marine unit, called up hastily to close the gap in the defenses, launched a counter attack that nearly drove the turians back, but as they pushed forward a solitary turians soldier suddenly slammed into their midst, propelled by jets on his armour. Two marines were killed instantly and a third succumbed to close range fire from a shotgun. Before the others could react, the turian jumped away, leaving the marines in disarray. It took several minutes before they could sort themselves out. By the time they started moving again they found themselves in a crossfire coming from several remotely operated weapon stations that seemed to float on tiny mass effect fields. The fire from the turrets forced the marines into cover, slowing their advance. Again a turian jumped into their midst. This time the marines were prepared. Even so, one died and two more were wounded before the turian was brought down by a bayonet thrust between the plates of his armour. The delays had allowed the turians to regroup and take up positions in several buildings, turning the square itself into an open firing range without cover. The marines having managed to secure at least one of the square's corners took cover and called for armour support, only to be told that none could be provided because the Grizzlys where too vulnerable to air attack. Both sides kept exchanging fire until nightfall without any measurable success.

* * *

**Shanxi, low orbit**

Lieutenant Saren Arterius could feel the rush of excitement as his shuttle descended through the atmosphere. Finally, finally, he would be able to engage this new upstart race in combat. Finally he would be able to prove his worth.  
Word had come that the specialist teams were finally achieving some success in penetrating the human defences in and around their capital city and Saren had fully expected to join them there. Instead, the unit to which he had been assigned had been diverted to a new target. At some distance from the city was a massive industrial complex. Although its exact purpose was so far unknown, it was clearly a major economic asset and his brother Desolas had ordered that it should be taken intact, a bargaining chip in the negotiations that would inevitably follow the conquest of the human colony. There would be no orbital bombardments. Instead, a regiment of soldiers was standing ready to enter the compound and take it one building at a time, and Saren and his team would be ready to implement the same type of tactics that had proven successful in the city.

No-one aboard the turian shuttle was aware that they had picked up a companion. In fact, the turians would most likely have ridiculed the notion that such a thing was possible. Making a cloak to hide a single soldier was already a challenge. A cloak to hide a complete shuttle? Ridiculous. The crew of the second shuttle shared Saren's excitement though. Stalking your prey was all well and good, but nothing could match the thrill that came with actual combat.

* * *

**Geneva, Earth**

It had started within hours of the first broadcast. A large group of protesters was marching through the city streets, they had done so day after day for the last few weeks, calling for peace, love, and coexistence with 'our alien brothers' and denouncing the terrible aggression of the United Systems Military which simply had to be responsible for the disaster that had overtaken humanity. Apparently the peace marchers hadn't got the news that things had changed. They certainly seemed sadly unprepared when, halfway through their daily parade, they encountered another demonstration.  
This one was of a slightly different kind and certainly fuelled by a different attitude. Their signs looked somewhat rough and unfinished, as though they had been slapped together by people in a hurry. This didn't detract from the message and the peace marchers were horrified to find their path blocked by street-wide banners informing them that 'POLITICS = TREASON' and 'GOOD ALIENS = DEAD ALIENS' and similar sentiments.

It was too much to hope that two groups with such diverging opinions would be able to work things out peacefully and in any case the newcomers seemed singularly uninterested in talking. Instead, they simply charged, swinging their signs around like battle-axes. The melee lasted for nearly fifteen minutes, mainly due to the fact that there were just too many people in too small a space to easily run away. By the time that the riot police appeared the streets were littered with bodies, both wounded and dead. Those demonstrators who were still standing took one look at the police and decided that the servants of law and order just had to be guilty of something; either that, or they were simply having too much fun to stop the party now. The result was a second battle, this one rather less one-sided. It lasted through the evening and most of the night, flaring up again and again as isolated groups of protestors rallied in side-streets. By then the political part of the fight had been largely forgotten, but that hardly mattered as people simply took out the fears and frustrations, that had been building up for weeks, on whatever target they could find. By the time the fighting finally died down, more than a hundred people had been killed and thousands more were wounded. Property damage from burned out vehicles and smashed store-fronts could not even be estimated. Meanwhile the unrest had spread to other cities with reports of mass riots coming in from all over the planet.

From the local military headquarters general Spears watched in silence as events unfolded. It had certainly been entertaining to watch as some of his most vocal opponents had their skulls beaten in with their own signs, but this situation could not continue. Something had to be done. Unfortunately, his aides seemed unable to reach a consensus on what

"General, we have to stop this!" One of them said, for what must have been the thousandth time. "We have to put boots on the ground in the major cities. The chaos is spreading. If we don't seize control now, it may take months before any kind of policy can be implemented."

"I know," Spears said. "But we cannot take control by force of arms. We'd lose the public support that we've just gained and it would lead to a constitutional crisis."

"Then what can we do?"

Spears smiled. He had had plenty of time to think on what could be done to channel the rage that would inevitably follow the news of Hammerstein's betrayal.

"Get me the directors of every military band and orchestra we have in this city: marines, navy, militia, all of them. I want them in my office within the hour. And prepare a communication centre to make calls around the globe. We have a lot of work to do."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**(*) The latter actually works by counting the number of rotations as the grenade flies to the target. This option is available today.**

**(**) High Explosive Squash Head. Also known as HEP (High Explosive, Plastic) It works as described here and has been a favourite anti-tank round of the British army for a long time.**

* * *

**A/N Next time, the assault on Exogeni**


	18. Equipment: Old and new

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

* * *

**Hi everyone. I'm sorry it took so long, but real life was very busy. I was traveling for most of the past month. On top of that, I'm changing jobs, which this time involves changing countries, so I have a lot going on right now. I'll try to update again as soon as possible, but it may take a while before I'm back on schedule. Please bear with me. I'm not abandoning this story.  
**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Geneva, Earth**

Hundreds of boots crashed into the pavement with metronomic regularity; for long seconds it was the only sound one could hear; then the rolling of the drums, then the pipes.  
General Spears watched his viewscreens with considerable satisfaction. His gamble was paying off. Earth hadn't seen this kind of spectacle for nearly two centuries, not on this scale. With the fading of national governments and the rise of the corporations the concept of a military parade had almost disappeared. The ultimate demise of the corporate authority and the subsequent creation of the Alliance of United Systems had not done much to change it. Still, some people had remembered. They had preserved the old traditions, even though no-one seemed to care. Now they were coming out of obscurity. Never mind what highlanders were doing on the streets of Geneva. That question could be asked later, and talk-show hosts could joke about the Scottish invasion of Switzerland. Today, none of that mattered. The only thing that counted was that they were there. They could be seen, they could be heard, and they provided a focus for people who were, as yet, more confused than anything else.

"General, it's working!" one of his aids was waving a datapad. "The riots are diminishing."

"Good! Keep those bands playing until they drop and then find me more."

"More? General, I think we have every military marching-band on earth out on the streets. And where there is no military band, we have the police and the fire-departments taking up the slack."

Spears sighed. People could be so slow. "I - DON'T - CARE!. Get me more! Get me every re-enactment group and renaissance fair your can find. Drag extras away from movie sets if you have to. As long as they can wear a uniform and march in step, I want them out there. The more colorful the better. People are scared. They need to see something they can look up to, something they can recognize, even if it's only from the history books, something to inspire them. I want Winged Hussars on the streets of Warshaw. I want the Foreign Legion at the Eiffel Tower. Put some wheels underneath the Terracotta army and put them on guard in front of the Forbidden City! Hell, I don't care if you have to hold a seance for the ghost of Ramses the second, just tell him to get his mummified ass moving, because I need his chariots to parade around the Great Pyramid!"

He turned back to the screen.

"Humanity is going to war, on very short notice, after a very long time of being at peace. At least that's how the general public saw things. That's a big problem for a lot of people and they may start to panic unless we can get them to focus. We need people to think military, to feel military, and for that we need anything and everything that can inspire some martial pride. Meanwhile ..." he paused. "Meanwhile we might as well put the present situation to some good use. Send a message to First Fleet command. Tell them that I'm afraid of what will happen when the news hits the colonies. Therefore I'm extending the state of emergency to include all USM forces. Tell those lazy bastards to get moving. I want First Fleet to be at full war strength within two weeks."

One of the aides tried to interrupt, but Spears waved him off.

"I know, strictly speaking I cannot do that, but I can declare local states of emergency when required. So, seeing as how I believe that local unrest might erupt anywhere, at any time, I'll just declare a 'local' state of emergency everywhere. Right now, no-one is in a position to stop us."

There was a knock on the door and another aide entered.

"General Spears, sir, I have a message from the Assembly. They want to send a delegation to speak with you."

Spears smiled. "Really? Well then, I guess I'd better find out what they want to talk about."

* * *

**Central command bunker, Shanxi  
**

It was the first time that the entire command staff had gathered since the start of the invasion and the faces around the table were uniformly grim. There were also some empty spots; most notably, colonel MacGruder, the senior battalion commander, was missing. He was presumed dead, along with two-thirds of his troops, in the destruction of the space port.

"Ladies and gentlemen," general WIlliams began. "We're all pressed for time, so I want to keep this meeting as short as possible. Right now, we're holding our own, but only barely. That has to change, and in order to turn things around, we need as much information as we can get our hands on. First of all, we've been able to gather some technical data on our new enemies. I suggest that we start with a brief overview of our latest analysis. Lieutenant Sosa?"

All eyes turned to lieutenant Velina Sosa. With the withdrawal of the naval force from Shanxi her position as liaison had become largely irrelevant. However, as the only remaining naval officer she had rather more technical training than either the marines, or the militia, and she had jumped at the opportunity to coordinate the research efforts that had started as soon as the first examples of alien infantry weapons had been brought in. It helped that she had gained at least a little experience in R&amp;D on a previous posting and the alien equipment posed a marvelous challenge.

"General, sir, the analysis is still preliminary, but I think that we can draw some conclusions from it. So far, the picture we're building from the turian equipment is somewhat mixed. Technologically, it is very advanced. However, that is mainly in the design concept. The end result is actually not nearly as impressive as one might expect."

Velina picked up a turian rifle that one of the marines had picked up from an alien corps. While recognisable as a weapon it seemed to have been designed by a surrealist on drugs.

"This seems to be the standard personal weapon of the turian infantry. It qualifies, more or less, as an assault rifle. However, its internal workings are actually more like the main armament of a warship. It's a mass accelerator, powered by a tiny eezo core."

There were some raised eye-brows around the table.

"Is that even possible?" One of the marines asked. "The smallest mass accelerator I've ever seen needed an APC to carry it around. Hell, even the ones on our fighter-craft are an order of magnitude bigger than that thing!"

Velina nodded.

"That's correct, sir. However, it seems that the aliens have miniaturized mass-effect technology far beyond anything we've ever attempted. At least, anything we've ever attempted outside a laboratory." She hesitated. "However, I would like to add that this seems to be a cultural choice, as much as actual technological advancement. It may actually be possible to build something like this with our current level of technology, or at least we may be able to do so in the near future, but there is no particular need for it. Our own weapons work quite well, so why make something as expensive and complicated as this? That's what our technicians are wondering about right now. They're practically drooling over the tech inside these weapons, but they cannot see a practical reason to build them. No matter how advanced their industrial basis is, a weapon like this is going to be far more expensive than a chemically powered rifle, plus it contains a lot of technology that might fail. Production quality control and maintenance for these things has to be a nightmare."

"It has to have some advantage," General Williams commented. "I cannot believe that these aliens are just insane, or so in love with high-tech that they waste a fortune on a hand-gun, just because they like gadgets. A private individual might do that if he has the money to spare. Not a military organisation."

"Well," Velina answered. "It does have some advantages. The high velocity of these rounds allows them to penetrate armor more effectively than our own weapons and without the added hassle of creating specialized armor-piercing rounds. From what the biologists tell us about their physiology that would be a big advantage for them. They basically have armor plates for skin. I suspect it also explains why they walk around in those plate-armor suits. Soft body-armor is not going to be much use against this kind of weapon. Basically, they seem to have focused on weaponry that will harm them most effectively, then built armor to protect against such weapons. Also, the ammunition is basically just a block of metal, so it's much cheaper than chemically powered rounds. Still, without knowing more it's impossible to say how many rounds one would have to fire to break even. If that's the big advantage it's more likely to be in the logistics and supply, which gets a lot simpler. Soldiers no longer have to carry spare ammo around either. A single ammunition block is enough for thousands of rounds."

"Wait, what?! Are you saying that this gives a soldier infinite ammunition? And you and your techs cannot see the advantage of that?"

Sosa flinched. She should have seen this coming. "Actually sir, that is not the case. The soldiers don't need to carry spare ammunition. However, their ability to fire is still limited, due to heat build-up."

General Williams, who had been on the verge of continuing his tirade stopped.

"Explain."

"Sir, all mass effect weapons have a problem with heat-dissipation. The friction generated by accelerating a piece of metal, even a small piece, to low-relativistic velocities creates a lot of heat. So, does the generator that has to generate the required power. That heat has to go somewhere. Aboard starships, that's not a big problem, because all mass accelerators have active cooling mechanisms that help dissipate the heat; but a weapon this small cannot have its own active cooling. There just isn't enough room, plus the weight would be prohibitive. Passive cooling through radiative surfaces can only do so much. So, if you keep firing for too long, the weapon overheats and has to shut down. We did some tests. A soldier can fire a handful of bursts, then the weapon stops working and he has to wait several seconds, at least, before it can be used again. One of our techs is a qualified marksman. He did a speed comparison. According to him a trained marine with a Lacrima assault rifle can replace an empty magazine within less than a third of the time it takes this weapon to cool down. They may have solved the problem of limited ammunition, but they've created a whole new one."

"That would explain a lot, general," one of the marines commented. "We've been getting reports of how these aliens fight, and they all say the same thing: no sustained fire. They fire a couple of bursts, then duck for cover. We've also seen nothing like our smartguns. Nothing that you can pull the trigger on and keep firing. It may not be a big deal on offence, but if they ever have to defend-"

"They'd get overrun." Williams agreed. "Very well, make sure that this is made common knowledge. If an alien is not shooting, there is a real chance that he actually cannot shoot at all."

He looked at Velina. "Continue."

"Actually, sir, basically everything about the alien technology can be explained by these miniaturised mass effect generators. Their shields, for example: They are nothing more than a small copy of the shields we have on starships. Again, this is something we cannot currently produce, but the concept is straightforward enough. These personal shields are not particularly strong, but they can take several rounds of incoming fire before they collapse. From what the marines have been reporting, the shields are most effective against a single, powerful round, but a burst of automatic fire will wear them down quickly and they take a while to recharge."

"But we've just learned that their weapons are not suitable for sustained fire," Major Orlov, the most senior survivor of MacGruder's battalion, said thoughtfully. "That would make those shields more effective against their weapons, than against ours. I think I begin to see a pattern here. They may not be stupid, but they're definitely overspecialized. What about this stealth gear we keep hearing about? Is their some actual truth in that?"

Velina hesitated.

"To be honest, sir, we don't know for sure. We've had multiple reports of aliens appearing out of thin air, but so far no-one has been able to provide us with a working example; or, if they have, we haven't recognized it for what it is. Still... I think the rumors may have a lot of truth in them."

"And why is that, lieutenant?"

"Because it would be more of the same, sir. In theory, a mass effect field can bend light around itself, making the object effectively invisible. I know for a fact that the navy has been experimenting with this concept as a way of creating stealth ships."

"I see." General Williams seemed to be getting ready for another outburst. "And how is it, that you know this, whereas the marines have been kept in the dark, lieutenant?"

"General, sir, I was briefly involved in one of these projects during my time in R&amp;D. Not as a technician, of course, but as assistant to one of the project leaders. The reason you have never been informed is most likely that the project was a complete failure. We never even got a proof of concept working. From what I understood the mass effect generator required to power such a stealth field would always be bigger than the field it generated, making it completely useless. However, that was for something the size of at least a shuttlecraft. Perhaps it works better on a smaller scale, and since these aliens can build mass effect technology much smaller than ours, it may just be possible that they've made it work. There have been no reports of stealth ships, so on a larger scale they may have run into the same problems we have."

Still," she continued. "It's application would be rather limited. Power requirements are huge and heat build-up inside the field would quickly become prohibitive. I don't think they can keep such a field up for long. A few minutes at most, unless they're far more advanced than they seem. On top of that, it may not work at all wavelengths. The marines have been ordered to activate infrared vision whenever there is a chance that these stealth troops are about. If that makes them visible, we've basically solved the whole problem. But, to be honest, I doubt it. If it was that easy to get around these stealth cloaks, they would be pretty much useless. Motion trackers should still work because they're using ultrasound rather than the electromagnetic waves, but-"

"But they only work against a moving target, and they were never all that precise to begin with." major Orlov said. "We know, lieutenant. Trust me, we know."

"Still, I suppose it's better than nothing," General Williams said. "Anything else to report, lieutenant."

"No, sir. That is all we have on their technology."

"Very well. Thank you. Now, the strategic situation: I suggest that we start with the periphery. First of all, the Exogeni complex. What is the current situation there?"

* * *

**Exogeni research and production facility, Shanxi**

The assault was failing and Lieutenant Saren Arterius was fuming as he looked on. Over two hundred turian soldiers had launched a frontal attack on the main entrance of the human industrial complex in an attempt to establish a position inside the buildings. The intent was to use this as an advance base from which they could launch the next attack. That had been more than an hour ago and ever since the sound of automatic weapons had filled the air. Now the results were becoming clear as the remnants of the assault force came streaming out of the building, rather fewer in number than they had been an hour earlier, firing their weapons to hold whatever was pursuing them at bay while they retreated toward cover. Saren's attention was drawn to two soldiers who were dragging the body of one of their comrades, either dead or wounded, with them. They almost made it, then, suddenly, a burst of fire from one of the windows tore through them. Killing one and leaving the other twitching on the ground next to the body they had been carrying. As Saren looked on in disgust the other soldiers continued their retreat, leaving the wounded to crawl to safety under their own power. **  
**

**-o-o-o-**

Zaeed Masani smiled as he slapped another magazine into his M41A/2 pulse rifle. That was one of the advantages of working in the private sector, you got to choose your own weapons. Not that there was something intrinsically wrong with the USM's M99 Lacrima, it was a great weapon. However, it had never felt quite right to him. It looked too much as though it had been designed by a guy in a lab-coat, rather than a soldier. No, the old M41-series had been good enough for his father and his grandfather and it was good enough for Zaeed; good enough, at least, to deal with bird-faced aliens. Whatever else they had done, these turians had thoroughly messed up the career-plans of one Zaeed Massani and nobody got away with that kind of shit.  
It had seemed such a good idea: one tour with the marines to learn the trade, then move on to private security to make the big bucks: more pay for fewer risks and no-one gets you killed trying to be a hero. Unfortunately, things hadn't worked out that way. Less than a year with Solaris-Security, and what do you know? A bunch of half-assed dinosaurs shows up. Then Sol-Sec just had to pick up a contract with Exogeni, and Mrs Massani's little boy Zaeed found himself right in the path of an alien invasion. To make matters worse, it now turned out that the private sector had its own code of conduct. They might be less prone to heroics than the marines, but the end result was the same: as long as the client paid, Sol-Sec would fight; and, as their commander had assured them just before everything went to hell, Exogeni's account was paid in full, all the way to the end of the year. So, now they were stuck fighting their very own re-enactment of the Alamo. Twice the aliens had forced their way into the Exogeni compound and twice the mercenaries, backed up by Exogeni's own guards, had driven them off, dragging the corpses of their fellow soldiers behind them. Speaking of which...  
Zaeed looked outside where one of aliens he had just shot was crawling away from the Exogeni building and considered putting another round into him, then decided against it. Either way, the alien was out of the fight and maybe, just maybe, some other bird-face would be dumb enough to come out of cover to help him, providing Zaeed with yet another target.

So far the battle had been going well for them. Outnumbered and outgunned, they had not even considered contesting the ground around the facilities. Instead, they had taken cover inside the buildings, waiting for the aliens to try and force their way in. As a strategy, it wasn't without risk. If the aliens decided to simply bombard the buildings from orbit, anyone inside would be buried underneath the rubble. Fortunately, the turians seemed determined to seize the facility intact and they weren't particularly clever about it either. So far they had launched three major assaults. The first two had not even made it to the front door. The third might have ended the same way, but Sol-Sec's commander preferred not to repeat the same tactic too often. So, rather than shooting the aliens as they approached, he and his men had stayed in hiding, allowing the aliens to gain access to the buildings. The end result was devastating as the turians walked straight into predetermined firing zones and then, after taking heavy losses, had to retreat across open ground.

**-o-o-o-**

"Lieutenant, I believe we've found it!"

Saren turned away from his grim contemplation of the battlefield before him to where his team had been looking at possible routes for infiltration.

"Yes?"

"Over here." One of the Ghosts on his team pointed at the holographic map. "There is a small building, wedged between two larger ones. It doesn't look to be anything important, except..." He adjusted the controls on the map and a series of lines appeared. This is an observation with ground-penetrating radar. There is a whole network of tunnels connecting this building to the ones nearby. In fact..." another adjustment. "The whole complex seems to be interconnected. So, if we can make our way in, we can go everywhere."

"But can we get in?" Saren asked. "We've just seen what these humans do to people who try to fight their way inside."

The Ghost's mandible twitched in a turian smile. "We can, sir. We've taken measurements. From the edge of the compound to the wall of the bigger buildings is short enough that we can keep our cloaks up until we're in the shadow of the walls. Once we're there, the humans will be unable to spot us from the taller buildings, because we'll be underneath the windows on one building, the smaller building blocks the view from the other side, and that small building itself has no windows at all. Once we're there, we can take out any sentries and open up the way for the rest of the team."

"Just the team, then?" Saren, asked hopefully. "Not a larger unit?"

"No, sir. There is no way we could gather a large unit nearby without drawing attention. It has to be just our team."

"Good! make it happen. I'll talk to the local commander and inform him that we're going in."

**-o-o-o-**

The stealth cloaks used by infiltrator type soldiers were good, but they were never perfect. The closer you came, the more likely you were to see the faint distortion that outlined the silhouette of anybody hiding. On top of that, even the most skilled infiltrator could keep his cloak active for a limited amount of time. It was good for getting from one place to another while remaining unseen, but you couldn't spy on people just by standing around cloaked while they talked nearby without a serious risk of detection. So, despite the existence of stealth cloaks, few people worried about that kind of security breach. In fact, the turian Ghost infiltrators themselves would have been the first to laugh at such a suggestion.

Someone else was laughing too, but then his cloak was of rather better quality. Standing only a few steps away one of the members of the hunting party looked on with considerable interest as the turian special forces team started to work out the details of their assault plan. His companions, already scouting out the grounds around the human complex had already informed him of the weak spot in the human defences. Interestingly, it was also right on top of the facility they were actually looking for. Now it seemed as though the turians would be kind enough to open the door for them. Of course, it would make things more complicated. For one thing, they would have to make sure that the turians didn't trample all over the research lab before they had a chance to obtain what they had come for. On top of that, it seemed quite likely that the turian infiltration would alert the human security forces who seemed to have developed an unfortunate habit of just filling a corridor with bullets if they thought they saw anything alien. Once it got hit, not even a Yautja cloak would remain up forever and their armour had its limitations as well. Still, an easy hunt was a boring hunt. This particular hunt promised to be very interesting.

As he watched the turians seemed to have reached a decision and started to gather their weapons and gear. The predator sent a quick message to his companions, alerting them to the new developments. Then he left, moving ahead of the turian special forces team. On his tactical screen, he could see the others moving as well. All converging on the small building.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Spears' messiah-complex, which was very strong in the book, is showing a little. I don't intend for him to go off the deep end completely, though, because in 'Nightmare Asylum' that was at least partially due to telepathic influence from the Alien queen.  
**

**Note that Velina's analysis of the motive to field mass effect based weapons is not entirely correct. Species without natural body armor, like salarians and asari also developed such weapons. I just tried to come up with the sort of explanation that someone with limited time and information might think up.  
**

**The amount of time a cloak can stay up is a bit difficult to estimate. As a player it is very short, but in cut-scenes Kazumi seems to walk around cloaked permanently. **

**The M41A/2 is a later version of the iconic pulse rifle from Aliens. It is used in the Alien vs. Predator games.**

**David: Regarding turians units, actually they use both. Most of the time they talk about legions, but in ME3 you have a mission to retrieve the 'banner of the first regiment'. It makes sense that they would have more than one type of unit. Historically, typical roman legions were about 6000 men strong. That puts them somewhere in between a brigade and a division by modern standards. They should have some form of subdivision. I considered using cohorts or manipels to stick with the roman theme, but since there is a canon reference to a regiment, I went with that instead. Keep in mind that all names would be translations anyway. Those were probably assigned by people in a hurry during, or immediately after, the war. If one translator was a history buff, but another wasn't, the mismatch in names is not that strange.  
**


	19. Irrevocable actions

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

* * *

**Wow, it's been a long time. Moving to another city and another job is a lot of work. Moving to another country even more so, especially when you don't speak the local language well. But, I'm mostly settled now, I have internet at home again and I've unpacked most of my stuff, including my special edition box-set of the four alien movies ;). So, I think I can start doing regular updates again. Thanks everyone for having patience. **

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Geneva, Earth**

Spears looked around the small conference room. There were five people waiting for him, but of those five, only one mattered.  
The two United Nations representatives were strictly window dressing. Spears had recognised them the moment he saw them. Although they both held dual positions in the UN and the United Systems General Assembly, those positions had been closely tied to Hammerstein's. On their own they were insignificant. Mura Detmer, the representative of Shanxi might at one time have been a force to be reckoned with, as she represented humanities only garden world colony. Now, with Shanxi invaded and cut off from the rest of the United Systems, her power-base had been reduced to vapour. The fourth individual was not even a politician, though he might as well have been. Leonard Caulder was a senior executive on the board of directors of Exogeni corporation. Even after the corporations had been cut down to size following the LV-426 incident, and its spin-offs, such a position would normally have come with considerable power, but today his position was the same as ms. Detmer's. He was a rat representing a sinking ship.  
No, only the fifth man mattered. With the death of chairwoman Hammerstein, Charles d'Orsinio might well be the most powerful human alive. Unlike the former, however, d'Orsinio preferred to wield that power discretely. He had been a part of earth's power-scene for so long that he almost seemed to have become part of the scenery, and a lot of people failed to notice him; but he had his fingers in almost every pie. There wasn't a committee or commission that he wasn't involved in, and that included the budget committee's for both military appropriation and internal security, as well as the military oversight committee and, to Spear's considerable amusement, the Assembly ethics commission. It was his presence, more than anything else, that convinced the general that this meeting was serious indeed.

"General Spears, so glad you could make time to join us on such short notice." D'Orsinio was the one to open the conversation. That was significant too.

"I'm always happy to meet with our esteemed political leadership, Mr. d'Orsinio.

"I'm sure you are." D'Orsinio smiled thinly. "Still, you must be very busy these days. By the way, is everyone here acquainted? Ms. Chen and Mr. Than from the UN and the General Assembly; ms. Detmer, the representative of Shanxi; and, of course, Mr. Caulder, from the executive board of Exogeni. Ladies and gentlemen, general Spears, our esteemed chief of staff."

Spears bowed slightly. It never hurt to be polite, at least at first.

"Thank you, sir. As you say, things are rather busy, so, if I may ask, how can I be of service?"

D'Orsinio smiled again. "Well, frankly, general. We would very much like to receive an update on the current military situation. You have been quite, eh, vocal, recently; especially on the planetary networks. Now, the picture that you have been painting is a bit, shall we say: gloomy? Of course, that is understandable, especially in the light of recent political developments. However, the facts, as presented in press-releases, tend to be a bit simplistic. We, all of us, would very much like to hear a more, eh, nuanced description of the current state of affairs."

Spears hesitated. D'Orsinio could be a powerful ally; if he wanted to be, and if Spears could convince him of the need. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to tell the truth. If d'Orsinio caught him in a lie any hope of establishing a working relationship would be gone.

"Very well. The truth is that right now these aliens are not actually in a position to do more than occupying Shanxi. Of course, they can slip their fleet through the relay to attack Thedus and the surrounding mining colonies, but that would be suicide. The moment they do so, Second Fleet can move into Shanxi, assuming that we receive permission, and cut off their retreat."

"But that would still leave the enemy fleet at a large in an important resource area."

"Yes. We only have one carrier group in that area, centred on Graff Spee. She doesn't have the strength to take on the whole alien fleet on her own, so, yes, they could do a lot of damage, but ultimately, they would be destroyed. I doubt they would run that risk. No, they may probe the relays with a few ships, but Graff Spee and her escorts can handle that, and the aliens will not attack in force."

"I see, so the doomsday scenario that you have been peddling has been a little, eh, exaggerated?"

Spears almost sighed. Leave it to politicians to miss the bigger picture.

"Hardly. What you fail to realise, Mr. d'Orsino, is that this only applies as long as these aliens don't reinforce. But that is a very unlikely scenario. They sent a fleet to Shanxi within a few weeks of meeting us for the first time. That means they only sent what they had available right away, ladies and gentlemen; their quick-response force, so to speak. Do you really think that anyone, anyone with a functioning brain, would send a sizable fleet to confront a distant, unknown, enemy, and just leave it at that? Of course not! This is just a probe. Once they've got our measure, they will send a second wave, probably a lot bigger than the first, and once that happens, they'll have the strength to hold Shanxi AND push through whatever relay they want. Then, they'll go after Thedus; and we'll be stuck defending on multiple fronts, which we simply cannot afford."

"Ah, that does change the situation, of course. In any case, Mr. Caulder has convinced me that we cannot allow these aliens to walk around Shanxi unhindered. It seems that Exogeni has some things lying around there that should not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. So, general, what, in your opinion would be the best way out of this situation?"

"We strike now, Mr. d'Orsinio. We strike now, and we strike hard before they have a chance to reinforce."

The reactions among the audience were somewhat mixed. Both Detmer and Caulder seemed to like the idea, while the two Assembly members looked properly horrified. D'Orsinio's face was unreadable.

"Right now," Spears went on, "Second Fleet has the strength to deal with the alien fleet at Shanxi. If the Assembly give permission we can go in within a few weeks, with both the fleet and the necessary ground forces to deal with whatever they have landed, and drive the survivors out of Shanxi space. Once we have accomplished that we can guard the relay. Even if enemy reinforcements show up, they'll have no choice but to attack at Shanxi again, because it is the only point of contact; and this time we'll be waiting for them in strength."

"But do we truly have sufficient strength to defeat them?" ms. Detmer asked, clearly playing devil's advocate. "If the attack fails, and Second Fleet takes significant damage-"

"The attack will succeed. We have learned a lot from our previous encounters. Even fighting with one hand tied behind our backs we managed to hurt them significantly. We can match these aliens technologically and, now that it is up to full strength, Second Fleet outnumbers them in heavy units, especially after the damage they've taken against admiral van Buuren. On top of that, Second Fleet will be fighting with the repair facilities at Arcturus right behind them, while the aliens are far from home, at the end of a long supply chain." Spears smiled grimly. "In a way, they've played into our hands. They sent a significant force right to our doorstep. Powerful enough to be a nuisance, but too weak to survive. If we act quickly, we can deal their fleet a significant defeat, while fighting on our own turf."

"And then what, general?" ms. Chen, one of the two Assembly members looked very much as though she had just bitten into a very sour lemon. "I seem to remember some famous admiral who made a statement about 'running riot for a few months to a year and then still losing the war'. In the end, he did, didn't he?"

This time Spears didn't bother to hide his contempt. A civilian with pretensions of military learning...

"You're thinking of admiral Yamamoto Isoroku, Ms. Chen; and, yes, he lost that war. Or, rather, his country lost the war after his death in action. However, unlike Yamamoto, we don't have the luxury of debating whether we should go to war. That choice has been made for us. All we can do now is make the best of what little time we have to, as he put it, 'run riot'. Also, unlike Yamamoto, we're not operating from an economy that depended on external sources for its raw materials and was already stretched to the breaking point at the start of the war. The combined industrial potential of the United Systems is enormous, as is our supply of manpower, and we've barely started to tap either. All we need to do is keep these aliens at bay until that potential has turned into a reality. Once we've spun up production to wartime levels it will be a completely different ballgame. But we need time: six months, a year maybe, and we're not going to get it unless we can regain control of the Shanxi relay."

"I understand, general. I understand indeed." D'Orsinio leant back in his chair. "So tell me, general. In order to achieve victory, what do you need from us. Not in the long run, mind. I understand the need to gear up to war-time production, but, as you say, that will take time. What do you need, right now?"

Spears took a deep breath. This was it. "I need the freedom to act, Mr. d'Orsinio. I need to be able to do my job without interference. This is now a military matter. It should be dealt with as such."

"Yes, of course. But that will take some special measures. As you know, the relationship between the United Systems Assembly and its Military have been well defined. Changing that will not be easy."

"Mr. d'Orsinio!" This time it was Than, who felt the need to interrupt. "Surely you cannot seriously consider this?! The subordination of the military to the civilian government is one of the cornerstones of our civilization. To-"

"A civilization which apparently was willing to throw millions of people under a bus in order to make a quick buck, " Spears snarled.

"Enough!" D'Orsinio had barely raised his voice, but it was enough to silence everyone in the room. "In order to have a civilization, we need to defeat these aliens. Of the people in this room, only one person has military experience. I'm not prepared to argue strategy with general Spears. Nor do I believe anyone, either in the Assembly or the UN, would be qualified to do so. So, general, how do you propose we go about this little constitutional upheaval."

This was something Spears had researched at length.

"There is a way, sir. There is a clause in the constitution, which allows for the United Systems Military to take effective control in time of war. We never really thought about it, because there was no one to go to war with, but now..."

"Now it becomes relevant. Very well, general. You'll have your declaration of war. As for the rest, I'll see what I can arrange."

D'Orsinio stood up. "In the meantime, general, please keep up the good work. I love these little parades you have organized. They look so very, eh, martial."

"Thank you, sir. That was the idea."

Spears stood up and made to leave the room. Just as he reached the door, he heard d'Orsinio's voice behind him.

"By the way, general. When you next see him: Tell Jack Harper I said 'hello'."

* * *

**Exogeni compound, Shanxi**

In a way, it had been ridiculously easy. Both human guards had been looking in the wrong direction and died without ever realizing what had happened. The ghosts checked one more time to make sure there were no other sentries nearby, then contacted their commanding officer.

"Lieutenant Arterius? We have secured the entrance, you can start moving now. No sign of human reinforcements."

"Acknowledged."

Saren gestured to the rest of his team. "The ghosts were successful. Move!"

Without another word, the turians jumped forward and sprinted across the open field toward the relative safety of the human buildings.

Behind them, nearly invisible to either a turian, or a human, eye, there was a faint rippling in the air as the hunting party followed the turians.

**-o-o-o-**

Zaeed walked into the improvised command centre, wondering why Commander Leftcourt, Solsec's local commanding officer, had called him off the firing line. He found the commander together with several Exogeni representatives standing around a large plotting table.

"Ah, Massani, come here and take a look."

Leftcourt pointed at a diagram of the Exogeni facility.

"We've lost all contact with one of our sentry posts. There were three guards on duty. They were supposed to check in ten minutes ago and we cannot raise them on the com-link. That would be bad enough because that part of the complex has a tunnel that links it directly to the main building, but now our esteemed employers tell me, that there is an additional problem: Mr. Santiago?"

A young man in civilian clothes stepped forward.

"This is strictly need-to-know. Underneath that part of the compound is an underground lab that is strictly off the books. It's not in use, hasn't been since it was built, and it is not on the standard maps of our facilities." He touched a few controls, then entered a long string of seemingly random letters and numbers, too quick for anyone to follow. Suddenly, a new schematic appeared on the display. "This is the layout of the lab. It has only one entrance, directly underneath the buildings where we've lost contact." He looked up. "That lab is sealed and corporate has given strict orders to make sure it remains sealed, no matter the circumstances. These aliens cannot be allowed to access it."

Zaeed stared at the schematic. It wasn't just an extra room. There were two complete levels underneath the existing underground facilities. It wasn't exactly unknown for large corporations to hide things, especially in the colonies, but this was big, not something you could hide beneath a trap door. It had clearly been part of the facility from its original inception. And a facility like that didn't just need space. If it would draw power as well, even if it was closed down. Either they were tapping the main grid without anyone noticing, or it had its own generators.

"You heard the man," Leftcourt said. "Massani, I want you to take half a dozen of our men and accompany Mr. Santiago to that lab. He has the access codes to get you wherever you need to go. Once you're there. Take care of the intruders."

Zaeed nodded. There really wasn't much else to say. That was something that the private sector had in common with the marines: when the man gave you an order, you marched.

**-o-o-o-**

Not only was there an underground facility, hidden in the middle of Exogeni's compound, there was even an underground tramline, connecting the small building, and its hidden basement, to the rest of the facility. As they entered the car, Zaed took a look at the corporate representative. One thing he had learned quickly was that little guys in suits tended to mess things up. Santiago at least looked to be reasonably fit. That would come in handy if they had to run away in a hurry. In any case, if he became a problem, well, then Zaeed would make sure that there would just be one more victim of the alien invasion. It wasn't just mercenaries that were considered disposable. Santiago was too young to be really important to Exogeni, so it was unlikely there would be too many complaints if he didn't make it back.

"So, tell me, Mr. Santiago, what exactly are we heading into?"

Santiago snorted. "Would you believe me, if I told you I didn't know?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, I have absolutely no idea. I'm not sure anyone does, at least not here on Shanxi. They built it, sealed it, and that was that. Whatever is in there, someone at the top wants to keep it locked away. When we heard there was even a possibility of an alien invasion, special orders came from the top: the vault has to remain sealed, at all costs."

"And if we cannot prevent them from getting in?"

"This particular lab comes with a self-destruct button. If we cannot secure the facility, we'll make sure it does not fall into alien hands."

"A self-destruct? You people are serious about this."

"Massani, let me make one thing absolutely clear. I don't know what is down there. I'm not sure anybody on this planet does. That lab has been sealed ever since it was built. All I know, is that the big-shots back on earth put some protocols in place, the likes of which I have never seen before: if containment is lost, either from the outside or the inside, the lab is to be destroyed; completely. And in this case, it means that we use pre-placed thermite charges and burn everything that's in there."

"That should take care of- Wait, what did you say? Containment could be breached from the IN-side?

"That's how the protocol is phrased. I didn't come up with it."

"Right, and how will they react when you actually use it? 'Cause I can tell you now that Sol-Sec isn't going to be paying the bill for that lab."

Santiago smiled thinly.

"I don't plan on telling them. If it comes to that, I suggest that we all swear that one of these turians pushed the wrong button."

The tram-car took them to their destination in less than a minute. The station at the other end looked singularly unimpressive. Just a small platform and a door. Santiago entered a string of numbers into a small keypad and the door slid open.

**-o-o-o-**

"Another locked door, lieutenant. We'll have to use explosives to open it."

"Then stop wasting time and get moving!"

Saren's patience, never his defining characteristic, was wearing thin. Not only were these humans disgusting creatures, they also seemed to lack any logic. What had seemed like a small building had turned out to be only the top of a large underground facility. A facility that was apparently not in use, because every single door they found had been locked and sealed. It slowed their progress to a crawl as they had no way to interface with, let alone override, the human locking mechanisms. On top of that, the lights had been switched off. They turned on as the turians moved forward, apparently triggered by some kind of motion detector, but turned off as soon as the small group had passed.  
Why anyone would invest in such a large underground structure and then not use it was anybody's guess, but as far as Saren was concerned it provided yet more prove that these humans had to be dealt with, for their own good as well as the galaxy's. However, that was a concern for later. For the moment, all Saren had to do was get past these doors and to the main buildings were most of the human soldiers were hiding.

**-o-o-o-**

While the turian special forces team made their way through the first level of the underground facility, the hunting party had gone its own way. Unlike the turians, they knew where they were going and they had come prepared. The human security systems were not bad, but they were no match for Yautja technology.  
The predators had hacked their way past several supposedly secure doors, locking them behind them to obscure any evidence of their passing. Now they were deep inside the laboratory, searching the storage rooms.

As one of the predators opened a sealed container, he started laughing, a strange rattling sound that echoed through the empty rooms. One of the others joined him and looked. Inside the container were half a dozen phials, containing a black liquid. There was no sign on the container as to the nature of its contents.

"These phials?"

"Yes. A sad end, really. One of the Engineers' greatest achievements, gathering dust in the sealed vault of a human laboratory. We'll make better use of it."

A small warning light popped up in the predator's helmet display. the third party member was signalling them.

"It seems our companion has found something of interest. Do we have time?"

"I think so. The turians are still wandering around the building, and when the humans arrive they will focus on the turians. We can afford to stay a little longer."

**-o-o-o-**

"Sir, there is a noise ahead, I believe we're about to have company."

"Finally!" Saren actually breathed a sigh of pure relieve. No more sneaking around. At last, he would be able to confront these humans in person. "Move ahead, cautiously. We'll set up an ambush in these rooms and take them down."

**-o-o-o-**

The hunting party had gathered around a single cryo-chamber, located in the centre of a small room.

"This... is unexpected."

"The human prisoners lied to us."

"So it would seem."

"They always maintained that no living sample had been preserved."

"But is it alive? How are its life signs?"

One of the predators studied the read-outs on the tube and filtered them through a translation package.

"Low, but stable. It is in perfect hibernation. Quite an achievement, considering the humans' limited technology.."

"Human cryo-freezing is quite advanced. A result of their early FTL program."

The hunting party had gathered in front of the cryo-chamber and contemplated the creature within.

"We cannot take it with us."

"True," the leader agreed. "The cryo-chamber is too large. We cannot cloak it and carrying it would slow us down. It might be an acceptable risk if this was a queen, but not for a warrior. Still..." He studied the chamber again. "It would be such a waste to just leave it here. Even if we cannot bring it back, we can at least add it to the entertainment. Unfreeze it. No need to open the chamber. It will make its own way out."

One of the predators had hooked his portable computer to the controls of the cryo-chamber. The interface wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. Security on the access panel was minimal. The humans had relied on keeping the vault itself secure, rather than locking down the cryo-chamber. A few key-strokes sufficed to set the heating process in motion. The hunting party left quickly. Behind them, in the cryo-chamber, a dark shape stirred slightly.

**-o-o-o-**

"Multiple contacts, closing fast."

One of the mercenaries, who was scanning the corridor ahead with his motion tracker, froze and lifted his rifle.

"How many?"

"Cannot be sure. At least half a dozen.

Zaeed smiled grimly. At least this was the kind of problem he knew how to deal with. "Alright, time to earn our pay. Santiago, what's that corridor look like?

The civilian checked his map display. "A turn to the left in about ten meters, beyond that: multiple side branches. They're in the middle of the facility, just one floor above the labs."

"Damn, plenty of cover for them. We'll wait for them at the corner, kill as many as we can, then clear the rooms one at a time. Move it!"

**-o-o-o-**

As the hunters made their way out of the vault, they could hear the noise of automatic weapons firing in the distance. That was good. They had what they came for. Now it was time for some entertainment.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Note that while Spears has a point about the ability to expand their military force, he does underestimate the enemy quite a bit. The way I see it, at this point in time the United Systems would be an economic match for one of the Citadel species, but they have no hope of matching the economic resources of all the Citadel species combined. So, assuming they have time to build up their forces, they could probably hold off the turians, but they would lose if the the asari and the salarians throw their production capacity behind the turians, even if they don't actively participate in the war.**

**Regarding the black substance: When I first saw it in **_Prometheus_**, I had an idea as to what it was supposed to be. Turned out I was wrong, and the writers just used it as a Deus-ex-machina that could do whatever the plot required. Probably one of the weakest points in the film (which has a LOT of weak points). Here I go with my own idea, so this is not a magical 'mutate anything into anything else' liquid. It will only serve one -strictly limited- purpose.**


	20. A meeting engagement

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Shanxi, Exogeni facility, underground laboratory**

_Cold... Dark...Empty..._

_The others... not there. She... not there. _

_Walls... everywhere. _

_Unacceptable!_

_A_ claw shot out and punched the nearest wall. The material didn't shatter, but there was a sound that told of cracks.

_Again!_

**-o-o-o-**

The ghost infiltrator, who was scouting ahead of the team, was very good at his job. He was also very unlucky. Taking cover in one of the small rooms set to either side of the main corridor, he was waiting for his stealth cloak to reset, so that he would have the maximum period of invisibility before he advanced down the corridor. Unfortunately for him, human soldiers did not just rely on visual light for detection.

Two of the Solsec mercenaries had taken up a firing position at the end of the corridor and both of them carried motion trackers. Infiltrator cloaks might be good at bending visual light. Against ultrasound, they might as well not exist.

Cloak fully recharged, the Ghost stepped into the corridor and a bright blue dot appeared on the screen of both trackers. One of the mercenaries, lying flat on the ground just around the corner, rolled over. The moment he had a clear line of sight he fired a burst down the length of the corridor, then rolled back. Only when he was back in cover did he realize that he had never seen a target.

It didn't matter. There was a standard procedure for this kind of situation and both soldiers were acting purely on their training. The moment the first soldier fired the second one moved forward, going in high where his squadmate had come in low, just in time to see a turian appear in front of him as the stealth cloak failed under the impact of several bullets.

The infiltrator, who had thought himself reasonably safe reacted a fraction of a second too late. He never had time to correct his mistake as a second salvo slammed into his torso, dropping his shield and tearing into his armour. Then the first human soldier rolled back into the corridor and the infiltrator knew no more

**-o-o-o-**

Saren cursed as his advance scout went down in a hail of bullets. He had been warned by other officers about the sheer amount of firepower these humans could bring to bear, but seeing it in person was a different thing altogether. Bullets were flying down the corridor and they kept coming in a continuous stream as the human soldiers advanced. As soon as one human soldier reached a door, he would duck into cover, allowing the ones behind him to continue their advance, firing as they came. His team was simply not equipped for this kind of battle. He needed to do something, or they would be overrun in seconds. Fortunately, he had other options. As the turian soldiers fell back, he curled his talons into a fist, a blue glow shimmering around his hand and lower arm.

**-o-o-o-**

"Push them! Push!"

There had been no time to set up the kind of ambush Zaeed had planned, but this seemed to work too. His mercenaries were advancing down the corridor, firing as they moved and ducking into the rooms to the side to reload. One of the birdfaces was down and the rest were either too shocked, or simply not equipped, to come up with an effective response. If they could keep this up, the aliens would either be overrun, or have to fall back to the elevator. There was no way they could evacuate in time and Zaeed and his team would slaughter them at the doors.

Even as he thought it, a blue glow rushed toward them. It caught one of the soldiers, lifted him straight off his feet and threw him backwards, tripping up the man behind him, who also went down.

"Shit-. Cover! Take Cover!"

Discipline and training were a beautiful thing. Surprised as they were, the Solsec mercenaries didn't lose their heads. Even before Zaeed ordered it, they scrambled through whatever door was nearest. Even the two that had been tossed around were crawling away to get into whatever room would give them some protection.

"What the fuck was that?"

Zaeed turned around and saw the Exogeni man, Santiago, huddled in the same room. Part of him was surprised that the corporate pretty boy had found the courage to follow him into the battle. Then again, just behind the soldiers was probably the safest place to be. Nor was the man unarmed. The tailoring of his corporate suit had apparently hidden a holster somewhere. Though the smallish handgun he was now holding was unlikely to prove very effective in this kind of battle, at least the man wouldn't be completely useless.

"Massani, what the FUCK was that?"

"Biotics." Zaeed snorted. "I saw a demonstration, once, when I was still in the corps. Never seen 'em used in the field, though. This is gonna be a problem."

"So, how do you deal with biotics?"

"The way we deal with everything else. We blow them the fuck up!"

Zaeed flipped a switch on his Pulse Rifle, then he activated his comm-link.

"This is Massani. When I say go, you go!"

**-o-o-o-**

Saren ducked back into cover. The human advance had been stopped, for the moment. However, there was no sign of panic. Clearly, the humans were not entirely unfamiliar with biotics. Still, he had bought his team at least a little time. Now, what to do next.

"Is there a better defence position ?"

The remaining infiltrator nodded. "There are separate stairs to the lower levels. They don't go up though. The elevator is the only way to ground level."

More human idiocy. Who would build something like that? Still ,it was better than nothing.

"Then we go down. We can hold them in the staircase."

-**o-o-o-**

Zaeed ducked around the corner and opened fire. The underbarrel grenade launcher on the M41 series had always been a subject of controversy. Too inaccurate to be useful at long range and a danger to the user when fired in close quarters. It had been one of the arguments in favour of the new Lacrimae assault rifles adopted by the marines, which used a more expensive, but also far more accurate and versatile alternative. Still, there was no denying its effectiveness. Working the pump-action as fast as he could, Zaeed sent three grenades flying down the corridor to explode against the far wall.

"NOW! GO, GO, GO!"

From doors all along the corridor, the mercenaries emerged and stormed forward behind a wall of flying bullets. Within seconds the corridor was secure. However, there was no sign of the enemy.

"Santiago, show me that map again. They've gone to ground somewhere."

The Exogeni rep. activated the portable display. "There isn't much on this floor, Massani. A few more rooms, then the elevator and a staircase. The elevator is the only way up and out. The stairs only go down."

"Can you lock down the elevator remotely?"

Santiago grinned. "One step ahead of you there, Massani. They're not getting out, unless they force the doors and climb the shaft."

"I'd love see them try that under fire. No, they won't take the risk." Zaeed studied the map. "If they have any brains, they'll go down and make their stand in the staircase. We'll have to root them out."

-**o-o-o-**

They had a problem. The plan had been so simple: let the turians and the human security run into each other, then, while the two sides fought, the hunters would open the elevator doors and either ride the elevator up or climb the shaft. However, that plan had relied on them having enough time and privacy. Unfortunately, it seemed they would get neither. Rather than fighting it out with the humans on the upper level, the turian special forces team had come running down the stairs, clearly intend on holding the staircase against the advancing humans. Not a bad plan, but it put them right next to the elevator shaft. Yautja cloaks were great, but they suffered from the same problem as all personal cloaking devices: Even if a person was cloaked, the objects he was manipulating were still visible. Turians trained to fight against cloaked enemies. A door opening without apparent reason was just the sort of thing they would instinctively look for. That could not be risked. Fighting their way out was not a good idea either. Not only would it reveal the Yautja at a time that they should stay hidden, but they might even fail to get away at all. Between turians and humans, they would face more than a dozen potential opponents. Bad odds for three warriors, even with superior technology.  
So, stealth was not an option. Neither was fighting. All they could do was wait, stay hidden, and look for an opportunity, though even that was a far from optimal solution. The human mercenaries carried devices that could spot even a cloaked Yautja the moment he moved; and behind them, well, that could also notice them and at the very least give away their location.

-**o-o-o-**

_Light... Bad_

_Noise... Useful_

_Much noise... weapons... danger_

_Still no others... She... still not there._

_Purpose... Exterminate_

The dark shape moved silently through the empty corridors toward the source of the noise.

-**o-o-o-**

"Grenade!"

One of the Havocs dragged Saren away from the door from where he had been shooting at the humans as they came down the stairs, just in time to avoid the explosion. A moment later they tried to get back into position, but it was too late. The human soldiers were already moving.

"What's the news from the elevator?"

The voice of his only remaining infiltrator came back through Saren's communicator.

"Not good, lieutenant. The engineers have set up their turrets to cover the doors and are trying to activate the system, but it isn't working well. The system is just too unfamiliar and it seems the humans have put some block on it."

"See if you can force open the doors. If we have to, we'll climb the shaft. Meanwhile, go scout out this entire level. Perhaps there is another exit."

The situation was not desperate yet, but certainly not good. They had killed one of the humans as he tried to come down the stairs, but the rest had responded the way these humans seemed to respond to everything: bullets and explosions. It was a strange way to fight by citadel standards, especially for this kind of small unit action; no hacking or overload attempts, no biotics, just an endless stream of straightforward violence applied to every target that presented itself. A small part of Saren's psyche was actually beginning to admire them for it. There was something almost turian about the relentless brutality of their fighting style. But, admirable or not, it was a serious problem for the small turian force. There was simply no way for them to hold out indefinitely; nor could they count on anyone coming to their aid. Either they managed to get out through the elevator shaft, or they found another exit. If neither possibility worked, it would all be over soon.

-**o-o-o-**

Solsec's mercenaries advanced cautiously down the stairs and onto the lower level. They had already lost two soldiers. One had died on the stairs, and Zaeed had sent another, injured by the biotic throw that had tossed him down and broken several ribs, back to the underground tramline. Though injured, he would at least be able to report if anyone tried to cut off their way out.  
The turian shad withdrawn, not even trying to block the advancing humans from leaving the staircase. Of course, it was not difficult to guess where they had gone. The only thing on this level that would be useful to them was the elevator.  
Suddenly, a short salvo tore through the leading soldier. The one behind her returned fire, then ducked for cover, narrowly missed by the second burst.

"Drone!"

Zaeed nodded to himself. These aliens seemed to be in love with high-tech gadgets. "Describe it."

"Looks like a sort of disk, floating around on anti-grav. Looks like it carries some sort of automatic weapon."

"Do you have any grenades left?"

"Yes sir."

"Use one."

The soldier unclipped a grenade from his belt and removed the remote detonator, then tossed it around the corner to where he had last seen the drone. A flip of a switch and an explosion echoed through the corridors.

"Got it!"

"Move on; and watch yourselves."

-**o-o-o-**

The Ghost moved slowly from room to room. He had seen what had happened to his colleague. These humans seemed to have a way to detect cloaked infiltrators; not a happy prospect for people who gambled their lives on their ability to remain undetected. The unreliable lighting did not help either. Apparently, the humans had installed sensors that switched on the lights when someone entered a room or corridor. Unfortunately, these sensors were fooled by his cloaking gear. As a result, he was spending half the time in darkness, the lights switching on only when his cloak failed and went into cool-down mode. Still, he had his orders and he would carry them out, no matter the cost.  
Another door, another room, still nothing that looked like a potential exit. As he moved, the Ghost felt increasingly uneasy. Despite the lack of any response to his presence, he couldn't quite shake the suspicion that he was being watched.

-**o-o-o-**

_Movement..._

_Target..._

The target was armed and using stealth gear to remain hidden from visual observers. It didn't question how it knew these things. Curiosity was not part of its nature. Still, the information was useful; an armed, stealth target called for special measures. Fortunately, it knew these measures as well.

-**o-o-o-**

The corridor was a dead end, again. Disgusted, the Ghost turned around. By now he had searched the entire level. Time to get back. The lieutenant would probably order him to try and go down to the next level and scout that one out. Not an easy task with the human soldiers between him and the staircase. Not for the first time, the infiltrator cursed his luck for being stuck with an overeager, overly aggressive officer, who should have stayed in orbit. Dying for the Hierarchy was a fate that every good turian contemplated with equanimity. Then again, there were degrees in everything and being shot by some random alien on a spirits-forsaken mud-ball, just because his commanding officer was too impatient to wait for support, was not the sort of heroic death he had envisioned when he decided to become a professional soldier.  
As he walked back down the corridor, the amplifying sensors in his helmet picked up a strange noise.

Drip... drip...

the Ghost looked around. A dripping faucet was strange. It argued that the laboratory had been used recently and so far, everything had been locked down completely. For that alone, it was worth investigating. Moreover, if there was a faucet, there had to be a water supply duct, which might have some sort of maintenance shaft. That meant a potential exit. And even if there was nothing, it would mean a welcome delay before he had to report his lack of success.

He looked around, trying to determine the source of the noise.

Drip... drip... drip...

It seemed to come from one of the rooms, a room he had searched before. That was not a good sign. The ghost lifted his rifle.  
The room seemed empty. Moreover, it appeared to be some sort of administrative office, with no obvious source of water, or any other liquid.  
As his eyes searched the room, he suddenly noticed something on the floor. Something that could indeed have caused the dripping noise. Cautiously, the Ghost knelt down and touched it with a single talon.

Not water. In fact, it didn't resemble any liquid has was familiar with. It was thickish, resin-like, and stuck to his glove.

Strange.

The office was dark, though, which limited his ability to determine what it was.  
Right at that moment, his cloak wore out. The next moment the lights came on as the sensors in the room registered his presence.

Drip...

The noise came from behind him!  
The Ghost whirled around, raising his rifle, then froze at the vision before him.

Teeth, more teeth. Nothing but teeth.

It took only a moment before his training took over, but it was a moment too long. Before he could fire, the creature was on top of him. Then there was nothing but pain.

-**o-o-o-**

_No hive... No eggs... No need for captives_

_Target... finished._

_Next..._

-**o-o-o-**

The battle raged around the elevator shaft. One of Saren's engineers was down, as were both of their turrets. The remaining engineer had managed to open the doors to the elevator, but between the original electronic block and the subsequent explosions of grenades from both sides, any hope of using the elevator was gone. The only chance they had now was using the elevator shaft. The two Havocs could use their jump jets to go up the shaft, but the others, including Saren himself, would have to climb the ladder that ran to the side of the shaft. Doing so while under fire was tantamount to suicide.  
They had killed two more humans, but the human advantage in firepower was counting heavily. All turians had their shields depleted and several were injured. Fortunately, there seemed to be only three humans left and only two of those were actively fighting. Saren allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. If he could get his remaining infiltrator back to the elevator, that would allow them to attack the humans from both sides and either finish the battle permanently or at the very least force the humans to retreat far enough that they could make a clean getaway. Unfortunately, the Ghost was not answering his communicator calls.

Just at that moment, one of the humans dove into the corridor in front of him. Curling into a ball in a way that an asari commando or drell assassin might be able to emulate, but that was utterly impossible for a turian, the soldier rolled once, then fired a long burst from his assault rifle. The remaining engineer, already wounded was nearly torn in half.

Saren dove sideways, away from the stream of bullets ... and slammed into something that wasn't supposed to be there.

Cloak!

This was a situation for which turians trained and Saren's reflexes took over. There was no time to power up his biotics. His pistol came up, ready to shoot what was clearly someone in an infiltrator cloak.

Saren never made it. Seemingly from thin air, a blade swept down, cutting through his arm, even before it was fully raised. For a moment, all he could do was look in stupefied amazement at the severed limb that fell at his feet, then he collapsed.

The two remaining turian soldiers, both Havocs, saw their leader fall and blasted away with their shotguns in the hope of catching the cloaked enemy, but they were too late. Whoever, or whatever it was had already vacated the area. Without further delay, they grabbed the unconscious lieutenant by his armour and jumped into the elevator shaft. Havoc jump jets were not really designed to carry more than one turian at a time, but there was some redundancy built in, and two Havocs working together could lift a third turian for a brief period of time, long enough at least to reach the top of the elevator shaft before their jets failed.

**-o-o-o-**

Disaster! One of the hunters, eager to find a way past the fighting had come to close, only for the turian to jump straight into him. A combination of overconfidence, inexperience, and just plain bad luck. Still, perhaps it was not all bad. The turians were out of the way. The remaining humans approached the elevator shaft, but they were moving slowly, cautiously, expecting to run into more gunfire, or perhaps a booby trap. Fortunately, Yautja cloaks, unlike those of less advanced races, didn't fail when they were hit, so at least secrecy had not been completely lost. The hunters stood motionless, waiting.

**-o-o-o-**

"They're gone."

Zaeed peered up the elevator shaft. AT the top he could see daylight. Presumably, the turians had forced open the doors there when they first entered.

"Alright. I guess we got lucky this time." By now he was down to only one other soldier and Santiago. The corporate man had handled himself alright, but he was not trained for combat and had wisely held back from the fire. That left only two active shooters and Zaeed had known a moment of despair just before the turians decided they had had enough.

"We'll check this floor, but then we're done."

"You've got it boss."

The two mercenaries moved forward, with Santiago following slightly behind Massani. Unbeknownst to them, behind them, three ghostlike shapes entered the elevator shaft and started climbing upwards.

**-o-o-o-**

_Movement... more targets_

_Different species... _

_Exterminate_

**-o-o-o-**

The soldier never even had time to scream. One moment he was advancing cautiously down a corridor, the next moment something slammed into the small of his back. As he looked down, he noticed that whatever it was seemed to be protruding from his abdomen: a green-black spike. He tried to shout something, but all that came out was a bubbling noise, then the point withdrew and he fell.

Zaeed Massani turned around a corner, just in time to see his last remaining soldier, impaled on the tail of a dark creature with a smooth, dome-like head. Instinct and training took over. Without even realizing it, he levelled his Pulserifle and fired a burst. He saw several bullets hit, but the creature, with astonishing speed and agility, twisted away and disappeared around another corner.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! Santiago, you'd better have a very good explanation for this, or I swear-"

"Explanation for what, Massani?"

"Don't give me that bullshit! I was a marine, remember? I know one of those fuckers when I see it."

"But you didn't see anything, Massani and neither did I." Santiago's voice was very cold. "There is absolutely nothing here, other than ourselves and these turians, or whatever they call themselves. Nothing whatsoever."

For a moment the temptation to just cut the little corporate prick down was overwhelming, then common sense returned.

"So, what are we not going to do about the thing that we didn't see and was never here?"

Santiago smiled thinly.

"We still have the same option we always had, Massani." He pulled out his pocket computer and connected it to a dataport in the wall. "I guess that the turians started tinkering with our equipment here and accidentally triggered the selfdestruct. Too bad, how sad, everything's dead."

He typed in a long, complicated, command string.

"All problems will be solved within the next five minutes. Let's go!"

**-o-o-o-**

_Injuries ..._

_Need time ... concealment ..._

There was a rumbling noise. Then a blaze of heat swept through the corridors.

_NOISE! FIRE!_

_Need to move ... survive..._

_FAILURE!_

**-o-o-o-**

The three survivors, Zaeed, Santiago, and the injured soldier that had been sent back before they descended to the lower levels rode the tram back in silence. No-one felt the urge to talk. Behind them, they could hear the rumbling noise as the underground laboratory collapsed. Zaeed's gaze briefly crossed that of Santiago. The corporate man smiled briefly, then stared ahead.

Outside, as the two Havocs dragged their unconscious commander away from the building, it collapsed behind them. The dust cloud that rose up provided a welcome cover as they made a series of short jumps back toward the turian lines.

**-o-o-o-**

No one doubted that Salarian sensors were the best in known space, but the increase in sensitivity came at a price: they tended to generate a lot of false positives. As a result, they needed constant supervision.

From their position in a far orbit around the planet, the crew of the STG vessel had observed the progress, or lack of same, of the turian invasion. For some it might have been frustrating to watch, rather than participate, but for the STG, it was paradise: So much to see, so many things to learn, not to mention the amusement factor of seeing a turian army bogged down on some alien backwater. Still, the many false returns generated by their sensitive, but somewhat temperamental instruments was starting to wear on their nerves, and it was with some annoyance that one of the sensor annalists noticed the faint echo on one of his screens. If he hadn't known better, it would have seemed as though a small ship, about the size of a shuttle craft, had just departed the planet and was making for one of the Lagrange points. Of course that was ridiculous. At this range, such a craft would have been clearly visible, not just a faint trace. That would imply the existence for a sensor cloak, big enough to hide a ship and while STG had spent a fortune on the development of such a device, they had been unsuccessful. The idea that either the turians, or the even more primitive humans, possessed something like that was ludicrous. Still, the trace, though faint, was surprisingly persistent and showed up on multiple, independent systems.

The annalists checked and double checked. The faint sensor echoes remained. Finally, after multiple system diagnoses, he made an entry in his watch log. His supervisor would be informed, but that was fine. That was one of the good things about working for STG: No report, however unlikely it seemed, would be dismissed out of hand. If nothing else, it would make for a very interesting puzzle.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**In my previous story Mordin lost his horn to a xenomorph, now Saren has lost his arm to a Predator.**

**As I said in **_Someone has heard the scream_**, humans know about biotics, they're just very rare. It only makes sense. They have eezo and the Alien-style corporations would certainly experiment on humans. **

* * *

**timedraven117****, thanks for your in-depth analysis. I agree that fighting a large war would be ruinous for the turians. Of course, unlike in **_Mythos effect, _**the humans here are also vulnerable to piracy. As soon as their existence becomes common knowledge, the Terminus pirates and the batarians will be looking for ways into human space, so the trouble would be spread around a bit more.  
Economically it is more complicated. In this story the turian economy is already stretched to maintain their military budget. Going to wartime production will make it even worse, but the other species can help. Even if salarians and asari don't have a big military industry, they can help the turians by supplying civilian products, freeing up the turian industry to focus on weapons. In the end, this would cause a turian bankruptcy, because they would no longer be generating any income (compare Great Britain at the end of WW2), but they would be able to keep fighting as long as the other species didn't call in their IOUs.  
In fact, this is the reason the turians have attacked Shanxi. They hope to force the humans to ask for negotiations without the need for a full-scale war. This kind of ploy (trying for a small military success to break a political and diplomatic stalemate) is not unknown. It is however very dangerous, because the war can spin out of control. It requires intimate knowledge of everyone's capabilities nd political agendas Desolas has miscalculated both the total number of humans (I'll get to that in a later chapter) and the reasons for the lack of a large scale response. I see him as being a rather mild sort of racist. Subconsciously, he figures other species are basically funny looking, kind-of-inferior turians that will behave the same way as turians, just less effective. So, by now he figures that if the humans had the strength to attack him, they would have done so, because that is what turians would do.**

**As for the predators' decision to turn the xenomorph loose, I see the predators as having a sick sense of humor (my own interpretation, we really know very little about them in canon). This is their equivalent of a human who puts a cat into a cage full of birds, just for laughs. If they had more time, they'd probably start laying bets as to how many turians and/or humans it can kill before it dies.**


	21. Turning points, part 1

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**We have reached the point in time where my first story, _Someone had heard them scream_, ended. By now the ships involved in that encounter are back home.  
**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Earth, Geneva**

The assembly room was packed. With the exception of chairwoman Hammerstein's seat, which would remain empty until a replacement had been elected, not a single member was absent. It had required some arm-twisting, for many of the Assemble members had been poised to flee the city for fear of the rioting citizens. But in the end, sufficient pressure had been brought to bear. It was necessary. On an occasion such as this, simply having a majority, or even a quorum, just wouldn't do. Everyone HAD to be there. Everyone HAD to vote.

"We are faced with unique circumstances. Circumstances that no-one could have predicted. Circumstances, that are rapidly spinning out of control."

Assembly member Charles d'Orsinio had the floor. That was a rarity. D'Orsinio almost never spoke in public, preferring to wield his influence in the background, but today it was necessary. Someone had to speak; and d'Orsinio, lacking clear ties to any political party of movement, was the ideal person to do it.  
Though perhaps lacking practice, d'Orsinio was a competent enough speaker; at least, competent enough to hold his audience for the short period that was required.

"The time for deliberations is past. The time for talking is past. It is time that we, the General Assembly of the United Systems, show that we CAN be decisive; that we CAN take action when required, that we CAN provide the leadership that humanity needs in time of crisis. However, in order to do so, we need to hear the voice of an expert. For that reason, I yield the floor to the United Systems Military chief-of-staff: General Thomas Spears."

* * *

**Shanxi orbit**

"You're going home, little brother."

General Arterius looked down on the still form of his younger brother. Saren was heavily sedated and had been unconscious most of the time since the survivors of his team brought him back from the infiltration attempt. It was fortunate that the two remaining team members had managed to evacuate him so quickly, and that the medics attached to that particular legion had been exceptionally skilled. They had managed to stabilize Saren just in time before he bled out. Now the wounded turian was back in orbit on board a transport that Desolas had detached to carry those wounded that needed further treatment back to Aephus.  
Desolas flexed a talon as he contemplated the latest reports. His forces in the human city were stuck, again. So was the legion surrounding the human industrial complex. The same complex where his brother had fought, and nearly died. It was the same story as the day before, and the day before that. Turian soldier would advance, run into human resistance, and stumble to a halt. They would call in reinforcements, air support, anything to give them an edge in firepower. Usually they managed to kill the defenders, or at least drive them off, only for the same process to repeat itself. They had inflicted serious casualties, but still the humans fought on, clinging to each building as though it was their last, and extracting a heavy toll from the Hierarchy troops.  
_Time for a change._ He had tried to do this the polite way; he really had tried, but it just wasn't working, and with each day that passed there was an increased chance that something would change on the political front. Either the Primarch would get tired of the delays and commit the full might of the Hierarchy, setting off the kind of large-scale war that Desolas had wanted to avoid; or someone, the Citadel Council or one of Desolas' political opponents, would convince Fedorian to have Desolas recalled, perhaps even giving up on the whole operation and turning the turian hierarchy into the laughing stock of the known galaxy; and throwing away everything they had endured, including his brother's sacrifice. _Time to show these creatures what it REALLY means to defy the Hierarchy_.

As though the thought had wakened him, Saren stirred and opened his eyes. Between the weakness from his injury and the sedation his gaze seemed far from clear, but his remaining talon reached out.

"Desolas!"

Saren's voice was soft, almost inaudible, but the desperation came through with every word as he tried to make himself heard.

"You have to continue! Don't make it... Don't make it all for nothing."

Desolas nodded and briefly rested his talon on his brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry, little brother. One way or another, I'm going to finish this."

* * *

**Shanxi City, Shanxi  
**

Beta company, 4th battalion, of the Shanxi planetary militia was spread out over a large office building in the commercial center of Shanxi City. They were a good unit. Unlike many of their fellow militia, they had stood and fought, and held their ground wherever possible; earning the grudging respect of the marines fighting along side them. Now, after more than a week of fighting and taking steady losses, the company was at less than two-thirds of its original strength. Unfortunately, there were no replacements to be had. Shanxi's militia was a young organization and lacked any kind of on-planet reserves. That was bad enough. Even worse was the increasing scarcity of supplies. Neither the marines nor the militia had the kind of massive stockpiles of consumables that were necessary to support them in a protracted fight; and the young colony lacked the industry to produce spare parts or ammunition locally. So far the massive firepower of the human infantry units, compared to their turian adversaries, had played an important part in their ability to contest the city. That was beginning to change. Increasingly, requests for resupply were being denied, or at least postponed.

**-o-o-o-**

A platoon of turian infantry moved cautiously through the deserted streets, checking every door, and every window. One of the soldiers spotted movement behind a window. Only for a moment, but that was enough. These were the survivors of two weeks of urban combat. They had learned the hard way not to take risks. That experience showed.  
The platoon scattered in all directions, even as several grenades landed in the street. For most of them, quick reactions saved their lives, though not for all. Two soldiers fell to the ground and stopped moving. A third, wounded, tried to crawl away only to be cut down by a burst of rifle fire.  
The encounter was not unexpected, and at least they had identified the position of the human defenders, allowing the lieutenant in charge of the platoon to mark the location on his map and report to his superiors. They had established a routine for this. The first unit to make contact would stop advancing and take cover. Neighboring units would move forward cautiously, probing along a wide front until the extent of the human position had been established. Once that task was completed, the entire regiment would fall on the defenders from as many different directions as possible. It was a frustrating, time-consuming approach that ran contrary to established doctrine, but it yielded results. This time, things went differently.

"Withdraw and wait for orders."

The platoon obeyed.

High in orbit above the city a turian cruiser adjusted it's position, aligning its spinal axis directly on the planet.

**-o-o-o-**

It happened faster than either human or turian eyes could follow. One moment everything was quiet, the next, a streak of light, emanating from somewhere high in the sky, connected with the office building. The ground shook, glass from the windows of a dozen nearby buildings shattered and rained down on the streets. Another streak of light appeared, and another, and another. Around the impact point, a massive dust cloud rose up, obscuring all vision. It took several minutes before anyone could begin to see what had happened. When the dust started to settle, an area nearly two hundred meters across had been turned into a rubble-filled crater. Turian soldiers, advancing slowly through the still-swirling dust, encountered no further resistance.

* * *

**Citadel, Asari councillor's private chambers  
**

"... and that was pretty much the end of it. Three of my people dead, one wounded, still a near-perfect first-contact, and then those strutting fools just had to toss it all away." Captain Shiana Armali's anger, suppressed for the duration of her return voyage, was now boiling over. Upon her arrival on the Citadel, she had requested a meeting with the asari councillor. Somewhat to her surprise, it had been granted within hours. It had provided her with a welcome opportunity to finally vent her rage.

"While I appreciate the sentiment, captain," the councillor answered. "it would seem this captain Victus didn't have much choice in the matter. There was no way for him to know what occurred, and his assumptions were not unreasonable."

"I don't blame Victus, councillor. He isn't the real culprit. That was that moron... what was his name, Livestian, who screwed up his first contact.

"Captain-"

"Councillor, if I could make a peaceful first contact under the circumstances I was faced with, he should have been able to do it as well." Shiala took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. "If I may ask, what is happening now? Victus said something about a turian move to solve this problem, but he was very evasive about what it entailed."

Councillor Tevos cast her a look, keeping her face carefully expressionless. "Invasion."

"What?!"

"I'm sure you heard me the first time, captain. The Hierarchy has launched an assault on a human colony world. The idea is to occupy the planet and force the humans to negotiate to get it back. That way the Hierarchy can make peace without losing face."

Shiana had the feeling that her thought-processes had frozen for a moment as she tried to make sense of what she heard, and of the kind of mind that could come up with such a concept.

"And... and what if they don't? Negotiate, that is. What if they keep fighting?"

"An excellent question, captain. Perhaps you should ask the Primarch. I, for one, would be most curious to hear his answer. Unfortunately, I suspect that it would be something along the line of: 'These aliens can not possibly have the strength for a protracted war against the full might of the Hierarchy!' Never mind that we still have no idea of their strengths and resources, or that the fact that they cannot win doesn't necessarily mean that they won't try, especially since they almost certainly have no idea of the total strength of the Hierarchy either. All well and good, if he is correct, but frankly, I doubt it. If these humans were going to ask for negotiations, they would have done it by now. No, you are almost certainly right. They won't negotiate, which means that, unless the turians have overwhelming numerical superiority, we're looking at a large scale war, potentially galactic in scale."

"Councillor, we both know that the Hierarchy's economy cannot sustain a long term military effort without support from the other governments, not unless they give up their patrol duties. Sooner or later, they'll come calling for help and then what?"

That, of course, was the Varen in the room that no-one wanted to discuss. What would they do, if the Hierarchy demanded the support from the other governments?  
Councilor Tevos sighed. There were days she wondered why she had ever agreed to take this post. The idea behind the Citadel Council had been a noble one. A way for different species to retain their independence, while still cooperating toward a common goal of galactic peace. Unfortunately, it never seemed to work that way. Faced with the rachni menace, earlier councilors had chosen the easy way out, uplifting the krogan to do the fighting for them. That had worked out very well, until the krogan decided that they didn't really need the other races. The only solution at the time had allowed the turians to leverage their way into a council seat, which, in turn had made the Hierarchy the de-facto military of the Council and given the turian Primarch enormous influence over Council decisions.  
Then, 300 years ago, her predecessors had been faced with the Geth problem. The Council had held back and looked at the turians to do something. But the turians, puffed up with their own importance and tired of competing with the quarians for the rare dextro-aminoacid planets, had been in no hurry to help them. In the end the Council had been forced to publicly condemn the quarians and refuse aid, for to do otherwise would have exposed their inability to do anything unless the Hierarchy signed off on it. Of course, that left the Geth problem. The Council had promised the galaxy at large that they would seek a long-term solution, rather than the short term solutions of the past that always seemed to come with long term consequences. The solution had indeed been long-term, but only in the sense that the problem still hadn't been solved three centuries later.  
And now? The turian peacekeeping force had initiated first contact with an unknown species, and made a mess of it. Then they had magnified their original blunder a thousand times by escalating it to the level of an actual war. That was bad enough, but it might not have been a complete disaster, if they could have finished it quickly. Unfortunately, they had been trying to occupy the human planet for nearly two weeks and still the humans fought. Unless something changed quickly, the small war they had started would rapidly become a big one; something the turians, with their overburdened economy, simply couldn't afford. When that happened, they would be forced to go to the other Citadel species for financial support. A distinctly unpalatable choice: either alienate the Hierarchy, one of the three Council species and by far the strongest military force, or start pouring money and other resources into a cause that none of them would willingly embrace.

"To be honest, captain, I don't know. Much depends on these humans. As long as they are no direct threat to citadels space, I don't see either our own republics, or the Salarian Union giving more than token support. The elcor will certainly follow our lead, and I don't see the hanar getting involved in a turian war. Of course the volus won't have much of a choice but to follow the Primarch's orders, given their status as a turian client race, but even they can only be pushed so far."

"And the batarians?"

"Dubious. Right now the ambassador seems torn between laughing at a turian screw-up and hoping for a share of the loot. They would probably be willing to help the turians out, but they'd exact a steep price."

"Typical"

"Indeed. Of course, everything will change if the humans are stronger than we think. If they counter attack into citadel space, we'll have no choice but to join the war."

**-o-o-o-**

After the captain left, councilor Tevos stared for a long time at the report that Shiana had given her. It really was too bad that the turians had interrupted so soon. There had been a beginning of true communication between both parties. Goddess knew what could have been achieved with only a little more time. Still, it was, at least, a start. The human ship had escaped and would return to its people, who would then see an alternative to the turian aggression. For the moment that would not be much use, but things could change. Perhaps, given time, another opportunity would present itself.  
The councilor activated her personal VI.

"Send a message to Matriarch Lidanya aboard the Destiny Ascension. Ask her to join me for diner. Then open a link to Thessia. Inform Matriarch Benezia T'Soni that I would like to speak with her at her earliest convenience."

* * *

**Shanxi, underground command centre**

"They did what?!"

"Orbital bombardment, sir. They destroyed three city blocks and completely wiped out the militia unit we had stationed there."

General Williams sat down, slowly.

"What about civilian casualties. Where there any left in the area?"

The aid shrugged. "It's impossible to tell, sir. As far as we know all civilians had been evacuated, but ..."

The general nodded. They had done their level best to get all civilians out of those areas that were directly threatened , but the task had been impossible. Moving civilians was like herding cats. Too many of them didn't want to leave their homes and Williams simply didn't have the manpower available to go door to door. Besides, where would they go? Shanxi was a new colony, with most of its population concentrated in its capital. There just wasn't enough readily available living space elsewhere to accommodate several million people. So far civilian casualties had been light, but if this was a new enemy policy, rather than an isolated incident ...

* * *

**Geneva, Earth**

"Today we stand on the edge of a precipice; we have been attacked from outside and betrayed from the within."

General Spears was standing at the speaker's podium in the center of the assembly hall, delivering what was undoubtedly the most important speech of his career. Half a dozen junior officers had agonized over it for the better part of two days.

"But humanity is never better than when it faces a challenge; and we will meet this new challenge as we have met all challenges in the past. With our hearts, with our minds, with our very lives."

He looked around the Assembly Hall, which was more quiet than it had ever been in living memory. Beyond that room, Spears knew, the world was watching; and, once the broadcasts had been transmitted, all of humanity, earthbound and colonial alike would hear his words.

"We humans..., we have a bloody past. We are a violent species, and our history shows it. These days, it has become fashionable to look back at that past with shame, with disdain; to claim that we have progressed beyond that stage, that we have become better than our ancestors; to claim that we have become a peaceful species. THAT STOPS HERE AND NOW! We should NOT be ashamed of our past! We should be grateful for it. A peaceful species would have given up long ago. It would never have persevered and reached the stars. A peaceful species, attacked by off-world aliens, would lie down and die. Every drop of blood we have spilled on this planet, every life we have taken in war, after war, after war, has prepared us for this moment. The moment when all of our experience in warfare, all of our talent for destruction, will be called upon to safe our species. It is in this spirit that I stand before you today and ask this assembly to declare a state of war with the political entity that calls itself the Turian Hierarchy."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**y1fellas: I know. I made Saren look a bit like a fool. My idea is that right now he is still young and very convinced of turian (and his own) superiority. (According to the ME wiki timeline he would have been 18 years old at this time. I see him a bit older, the equivalent of a human in his twenties.) He's had a very nasty shock, and he'll be getting a few more. That'll shake him out of his complacency, but also set the stage for what he'll become. Part of the problem is the tradition he's grown up in: For all their bluster, turians lack any recent experience in large scale warfare. **** Compared to humans the turians are amateurs. Their last major war was the krogan rebellions, 1500 year before the first contact war. For humans (in my timeline) that's about the time that Charlemagne conquered his empire. And it shows. These are the people that put a base on one of their moons and called it 'a brilliant strategy', rather than 'the obvious thing to do'.  
If anyone has played Dawn of War, you may remember the 'Indrick Boreale destroys Kaurava' video on youtube and what he thought about people that put bases on moons. Just watch it again, but substitute the names:  
**

_**'Commander Shepard took it as a personal affront that the turians had build a base of operations on the moon. Of course, almost anything could offend commander Shepard; and (s)he would have come to attack the turians sooner or later, JUST**_**_ BECAUSE THEY WERE THERE!'_ etc etc.  
**


	22. Turning points, part 2

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**Another short chapter. I hope to get the next one out in a few days. It's nearly finished, but I kept it separate because there is about a week between the events in that chapter and this one.  
**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Shanxi, underground command centre  
**

"Again?"

"Yes sir. The entire platoon was wiped out."

Three days. only three days since the invaders had changed tactics. General Williams felt as though it had been three decades. He suspected he looked like that too. Considering the handicaps under which he had worked, he hadn't had a bad war, so far. Unable to match the enemy in numbers, his soldiers had slowly fallen back into the city, shortening their defensive perimeter and bleeding the attackers every step of the way as they contested street after street, giving them their very own Stalingrad. Now, everything had changed. For three days turian warships had rained down destruction on his troops. Every time a marine unit opened fire on the approaching turians, they, and the buildings they were hiding in, had simply ceased to exist. The death toll was catastrophic, not only among his marines and the remnants of the planetary militia, but under the civilian population as well. There was no way to know for sure how many civilians had stayed in the capital, let alone how many had perished under the rubble.

The first orbital strike had been followed by a new demand for surrender from the invaders. At the time no-one had been willing to speak in favor of such a course of action, but, as the aliens demonstrated their willingness to tear down the entire city on top of inhabitants and defenders alike, more and more of Williams' officers had changed their stance. It was one thing to die fighting. To die pointlessly without being able to shoot back was a different story.

The general drew a deep breath. It was time. He had wasted three days, praying for a miracle. That miracle had never happened and thousands had payed the price for it with their lives. _No more. You have to end it now._

"Send a message on all frequencies. Tell the aliens... Tell them I'm ready to surrender."

* * *

**Turian temporary headquarters, Shanxi City**

"No resistance?"**  
**

"No, sir. in fact, no sign of the enemy at all."

"Good, prepare to move forward. Keep your communications open at all times and be ready to call in bombardment the moment you make contact with the enemy."

Colonel Macrus stared out of the window of the human building in which he had set up his new headquarters. His third in two days. From the window he could see the last spot where his soldiers had engaged the enemy. Or, rather, been engaged by them. It had been a massive structure, towering up into the sky. Now it was a dusty crater, filled with rumble and and an unknown number of sentient being buried beneath it all.

Macrus was tired. More tired than he could remember ever having been. The new policy was working, that was certain. Faced with orbital bombardment, to which they simply had no answer, the moment they opened fire, the humans seemed to have given up. Turian soldiers were probing ahead, cautiously, but so far no-one had taken even a single shot. That was good. Perhaps this was truly the end of the war. If so, it had been a costly one. More than half of his regiment was out of action, either dead or wounded. Most other units were in a similar situation.

_It wasn't supposed to be this way. _He snorted. A lot of thing were not the way they were supposed to be. This was supposed to have been a simple, straightforward mission: Enter the star system, land on the planet, and take control. Then the humans would be forced to negotiate and everyone could go home. But now... Over five thousand turian soldiers dead or wounded, not counting the losses that the navy had taken in the battle for the system; half a city in ruins; and as for the human death toll, there simply was no way for him to tell. All that to take over what was clearly a new, underdeveloped colony world. They still had no clue as to the actual strength the humans could bring into the war if the rest of their species got involved; and they would get involved, no matter what general Arterius and the sycophants on his staff kept telling the rest of them. There was no way any species would be satisfied with negotiations now.

"Colonel, sir!"

One his aids came rushing into the room.

"Yes?"

"A message, sir. It's from the humans."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi City, somewhere underground**

Corporal McKinney and the few remaining members of his squad had sought refuge in the cellar of an abandoned office building. There they had stayed for two days as the aliens marched through the streets above them, unable to take any offensive action for fear of drawing the fire of the warships in orbit. They were out of food and water, let alone the necessary medication to treat the walking wounded that made up more than half of the unit.  
Cursing under his breath, McKinney stacked their weapons in an abandoned room, then tossed in his last remaining grenade. It was a small gesture, perhaps a petty one, but it made him feel a little better to know that at least their equipment would not fall into enemy hands. Then, his duty fulfilled, he gathered his soldiers and marched out into the streets.

**-o-o-o-**

**Exogeni facility**

Commander Leftcourt sighed as he heard the news, unsure whether to be angry or relieved. Solsec's mercenary troops had fought a magnificent battle, but they too were failing. The turians had finally managed to push into the Exogeni complex and establish a forward base of operations. Now the battle raged in the corridors of the complex as the security force, in ever decreasing numbers, sought to contain the breaches in their defenses. They were holding, but only just, and they, too, were running out of ammunition. Not that it mattered anymore. With the marines and the militia out of the fight, there was no way they could hope to hold the complex against the invaders. They had fulfilled their contract to the best of their ability. Pointlessly committing suicide was not part of the deal. It was time to call it a day.

"Start destroying all records that you want to keep secret. We'll delay them until you're done."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi military headquarters. Research facility**

"Alright people, those are the last files. Get ready to transmit."

Lieutenant Velina Sosa looked around the lab where she had spent most of the last two weeks. It had been so fascinating! New technology, new ways of doing things. Now it was all coming to an end, and she had to break down everything they had put together.

"We're ready, ma'am."

"Good. Transmit everything, then purge the system."

Selina gave the lab one more regretful look. They had made such great strides in understanding the alien technology. It really was too bad that they had to stop now. All she could do was hope that their reports would reach the right people.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger, Shanxi space**

The frigate had been lying dead in space, using neither propulsion nor active scanners, observing the events on the planet. Now, thing were changing. Commander Farnsworth studied the latest transmission that they had received.

"Are you sure this is all? We won't get a second chance."

"Yes, skipper. General Williams was quite clear. There will be no further information."

"Good. Compress all data and target the relay. Make sure all hand are standing by to get us the hell out of here.

**-o-o-o-**

The turian patrol was caught by surprise. Fighter squadrons had been patrolling the area around the mass relay ever since the human warships had departed the system and it was inevitable that they would become less alert over time. Still, they reacted with admirable speed, vacating the area to avoid being caught by any ships that might enter through the relay. It took only a moment more to determine, that this was not an incoming transit. The relay had been activated from inside the system and it was purely a data transfer, rather than an actual transit. There was no need to attempt to track the activation signal as, only moments later, a human frigate lit off its drives and started accelerating away.

The continued presence of a human warship in local space did not come as a great surprise to the turian pilots. In fact, it had been suspected from the start that the humans had left some of their ships behind to observe the invasion. This was the first time that any such ships had been spotted, though, and the fighters set off in pursuit, hoping to catch the human vessel and cripple it so one of their cruisers would be able to come withing combat distance.

They were wasting their time. The human frigate, basically a collection of four massive engines with a small hull strapped on as an afterthought, had too much of a head start and could accelerate nearly as fast as their fighters and the turian pilots were left grinding their mandibles in frustration as the small vessel disappeared in FTL drive. Still, it was not a complete loss. Undoubtedly, the ship had transmitted the human surrender to whoever was listening on the other side of the relay. Perhaps that knowledge would finally convince them to open negotiations.

* * *

**Arcturus Station**

Three officers and a civilian were sitting in a briefing room.

"That is... quite a story!"

Admiral Drescher leaned back against her seat. "I have to be honest with you, gentlemen, ms. Vickers, if it hadn't been for the records, both from Anzio itself, and from the marines' helmet cameras, I'd be tempted to have you all locked away, pending a psych evaluation. As it is..."

She paused. "... as it is, I have no choice but to believe you. Still, it leaves us with a lot of unanswered questions."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room. Then the admiral continued. "From what we have managed to learn so far from interrogating the handful of prisoners that admiral van Buren took during his first engagement, the aliens we are fighting, these turians, as they call themselves, are part of a larger organization, consisting of at least three species: the turians themselves, and two others. Descriptions of the other two species match the ones that you observed aboard the Calypso. Unfortunately, that is about all we have discovered. Interrogation has been extremely slow due to language difficulties. From the transmissions that were sent at Shanxi it seems that the aliens have had rather more success in dealing with the language barrier; understandable, since they have apparently dealt with this kind of problem before. We, on the other hand, have found it extremely slow going. Of course, we may actually have had more success than we think. The prisoners may simply be hiding behind the language problems to avoid answering questions."

"Admiral, if I may..?"

"Yes, ms. Vickers?"

"As far as we could tell, there was no hostility at all, during our initial encounter. It was only when these turians showed up that the situation deteriorated. Even then, the first ship never participated in combat. If these aliens are allied, one would expect them to have joined forces."

"Perhaps. Keep in mind, ms Vickers, that we are not talking about humans. I would strongly suggest that we refrain from projecting human style motivations on them. Besides, humans would not necessarily act as you describe either. The first ship you encountered may not have been aware of the outbreak of hostilities. If so, they might have hesitated to engage, even after their purported allies showed up. Then again, we don't know the exact nature of their relationship. No, we cannot afford to make any assumptions. Still, I admit it is intriguing. So far we have seen no sign of any force other than the turians involved in combat against us; and frankly, that is already more than we have been able to handle so far. If there are other species out there who have decided to remain neutral, well, there may be an opening for diplomatic efforts and your initial contact with them may help us out in the long run." She shrugged. "But, that is something for the politicians to debate. Meanwhile, we have a war to fight. Fortunately, the political situation on earth has largely resolved itself by now, which means that we can end this waiting game and start acting. Captain Ramirez?"

"Ma'am."

"What is the ETA on Anzio's repairs?"

"About forty-eight, ma'am."

"Good. Thanks to certain changes in government policy I expect to receive green light for the counter attack at any moment. Once that happens, I want second fleet in Shanxi space as soon as possible. General Williams has been on his own for more than two weeks now. I don't think he'll be able to continue the fight much longer, unless we can get a relief force on the ground. Frankly, I need every ship I can get my hands on; that includes Anzio. I'll have formal orders for you to report to rear-admiral Grissom aboard Tannhauser Gate. He will command the initial landing operations."

A soft ringing tone heralded the arrival of a priority message on the nearby terminal. Admiral Drescher turned away from the others and started to read. Then, without a word the admiral stood up and walked toward the window. As the seconds ticked away, no-one spoke. After what seemed like an eternity, she turned around, her face carefully expressionless.

"It seems I was mistaken. The need for haste is largely gone. That was a priority communications from one of our few remaining assets in Shanxi space. General Williams has surrendered the planet to the turians. It seems we will be able to take our time with the preparations for our counter offensive ."

She turned her face back toward the window.

"Your orders stand. Report to admiral Grissom. We will use as much time as we need to get ready for deployment. But when we are ready, second fleet is going to come down like a hammer. We'll teach these aliens the one true lesson they'll ever need to learn: Fighting with humans is just another way of committing suicide."

* * *

**Shanxi City**

General Desolas Arterius stood in the center of what had to be the city's main square, surrounded by government buildings. As he watched the flag of the human government was lowered and replaced with the banners of the regiments that had taken the city. It had been a costly battle, but, in the end, turian arms had prevailed. Now, all he had to do was wait.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Kralizec314: It's a case of blaming the victim. Desolas is the sort of person who can always find justification for whatever he does, simply because he is the one doing it. From his point of view, he's been pretty nice. From the start he offered the humans a chance to surrender without taking any more casualties and, since the mess at the spaceport, he has been pulling his punches by not bombarding from orbit. This is a big problem for the turians, because they need that kind of support (they lack armoured vehicles with heavy weapons), so his soldiers (including his brother!) have payed the price. Of course, from a more objective point of view he's still an ass. He's a bully crying 'why do you make me hit you?' What he doesn't realize is that he has made a fatal political error. After the spaceport blew up he insisted that all bombardments had to be approved by him personally. Now that he has done that he will be the perfect scapegoat.  
**

**OMAC001: It's coming. I needed for Williams to surrender first. That he was only days away from getting help just makes it that much worse.**

**timedraven117: The council could try to put economic pressure on the hierarchy, but it would only work if the other governments supported them. Unfortunately, they might not, because they like having the turians pay for the defense of citadel space. Also, if the turians walk out, the volus may go with them, which would upset the financial system. And, if the turians stop protecting citadel space, the treaty of Farinxen becomes meaningless, which could lead to an arms race. It's the sort of situation where nobody is really happy with the status quo, but everybody is scared of finding out what the alternative would be.  
**


	23. Waking a sleeping varren

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**USM Dagger, Shanxi space**

USM Dagger was hiding in an asteroid field. Even after several days that joke still managed to amuse some of the crew. The phrase invoked images from old science fiction movies; of a small ship, surrounded by massive rocks that could crush it at any moment. The reality was, of course, quite different. From its current position, not a single asteroid could be seen with the naked eye. In fact, it would have taken a fairly powerful telescope to spot even the nearest asteroids. Still, it was a useful hiding place. Not because the asteroids would actually shield the ship from hostile sensors, but simply because the ship was an object in orbit around the star, in a region of space where such objects were expected. As long as she used neither her drives, nor active sensors, no-one had a reason to be suspicious of her, which in turn meant that it was extremely unlikely that anyone would bother to take a closer look.

It had taken the ship nearly forty-eight hours to sneak back into Shanxi space after fleeing the system ahead of the turian fighters. She had been sitting in orbit since then. Two other frigates were hiding elsewhere in the system, waiting and observing. For those among the crew with an interest in military history it evoked images of submarines, waiting beneath the ocean surface, never knowing for sure whether they had been detected. It was a strange experience, both nerve-racking and mind-numbingly boring at the same time.

Commander Farnsworth was becoming increasingly worried about the crew. Moral had been low ever since the fleet had pulled out of Shanxi, and the knowledge that this had ultimately led to the surrender of the planet had not helped. Now they were forced to remain inactive and tensions were starting to rise, so it was with some trepidation that she noticed her first officer trying to get her attention

"Ma'am, a general broadcast just came through the relay. It carries the correct sender codes for USM headquarters."

"Orders."

"No ma'am. It's.. it's not even encripted. I don't think it's meant for us. Take a look"

Commander Farnsworth studied the file. Then, for what seemed the first time in weeks, she smiled.

"Put it on the ship's net. Make sure everyone gets a good look."

* * *

**HNV Force of Justice, Shanxi system**

Daraya was fidgeting as she waited in the small conference room. Ever since the human surrender she had been working hard, refining the translation software that she and her fellow asari had designed and applying it to the questioning of human prisoners. After nearly a week of interrogations and research she desperately needed for someone in command to take a look at her results. Unfortunately, her inability to identify anyone among the human prisoners either willing, or able, to enter into negotiations regarding a termination of hostilities had not endeared her to either general Arterius, or his staff.  
It had been a frustrating experience. The captured soldiers, if they were willing to talk at all, had pointed her to something called 'the General Assembly', a political organization that, according to them, was the only one qualified to decide on matters of war or peace. They had been adamant in their denial of any authority in this matter. Armed with that knowledge she had approached the local civilian leadership. However, they, in turn, had denied any authority to speak on behalf of this General Assembly. Instead, they had informed her that it was the responsibility of the 'United Systems Military' to conduct warfare in defense of the human species and that all requests for either a truce or armistice should be addressed to them, rather than to civilians whose authority was limited to the surface of their planet.  
After nearly a week of talking in circles Daraya was still not entirely sure whether the humans were just playing with her, or that perhaps the situation was so convoluted that they themselves were unsure as to who should speak on their behalf. The latter seemed not entirely impossible, considering the fact that, prior to first contact, humans seemed to have considered the existence of other intelligent life to be a largely academic question, and had never bothered to implement any political policy regarding interaction with another species. Pointing this out to general Arterius had been a waste of time, and had merely resulted in him closing the connection. However, in her attempts to figure out the structure of human society and political leadership she had stumbled over some pertinent information. With general Arterius and his staff largely ignoring her, she had looked around for someone, anyone, willing to listen to her. Then she had remembered that general Oraka, the second in command, had a reputation for liking asari, and sent him a message. Fortunately the general had been willing to give her some of his time. Unfortunately, he had no intension of leaving his flagship, so she had no choice but to meet him in orbit, which had led to further delays.

"Matron Daraya, such a pleasure to see you."

Daraya studied Septimus Oraka as he entered the room. She had only met him before on a few occasions and had always found him rather pleasant. However, this time the charm seemed more of a veneer, covering an underlying brittleness.

"General, thank you for agreeing to this meeting on such short notice."

The general made a dismissive gesture.

"To the contrary. I was glad to hear from you. Something has come up and I would like to hear your opinion. But, please, tell me, what is it that you wished to discuss?"

"Well, on general Arterius orders I have been trying to find a way to open negotiations with the human leadership, and-"

"And failed." The general snorted. "Please, don't imagine that I blame you. I know from my own people that you have been most diligent. The humans are simply not in the mood to talk. Hardly surprising."

Daraya nodded. "True. And even when they are willing to speak, there seems little hope for success. However, as part of my task, I have been trying to put together an overview of the human social and political structure. So far I have identified five different organizations that seem to have authority. There are three local governmental organizations, an extra-planetary organization, and a purely military organization. I've tried to work out what they are supposed to be doing, but their relationships seem convoluted in the extreme. In fact, in many cases their areas of authority appear to be overlapping each other. To be honest, I don't understand how they manage to get anything done."

"Perhaps they don't." This time, general Oraka's humour seemed genuine. "Perhaps that is the reason why we've seen no response from humans outside this system, yet."

"Perhaps," Daraya smiled briefly. "but I don't think we can count on it. In any case, it is all in this report." She put a datapad on the table.

"As I was working on their government structure, I had to get a general feeling of the human settlements in space. They purged their official databases, but there was one source of information that remained intact"

"Oh?" The general was leaning forward now, clearly interested.

"Yes, their schools. Once I considered it, it was really quite trivial. Human computer systems rely more on local databases than our own. All I had to do was go to the nearest school, one that provided basic education for very young children, and look up the information I needed. It is not very detailed and certainly contains no military data, but it seems quite reliable. After all, what would be the point of deliberately teaching children false data?"

"And the result?"

"That is why I came to you, general. The result is very surprising."

"Show me."

Daraya activated her omni-tool and projected a starmap over the conference table.

General Oraka was half out of his chair before the map was complete. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it as he studied the map. Several minutes went by as he looked at it.

"This cannot be right! Nobody colonises like that."

Daraya understood the general's reaction. Space-faring species tended to follow the same pattern. They spread out from one mass-relay to another, colonising whatever nearby planets seemed to hold the most promise, then went on to the next relay. The result was always the same: A large area of space nominally under a species' control, but very thinly colonised as only the most useful planets were inhabited, and the rest were largely ignored.  
The map of human-occupied space looked radically different. It was much smaller than that of any other know species. However, within that small region, they were everywhere. The region surrounding the system that Daraya had tentatively identified as containing the human homeworld was littered with colonies. Every planet, no matter how barren or hostile its environment, seemed to contain at least some human settlements. Further away from the center they were spread more thinly, but even there they seemed willing to colonise rocks that no other species would bother with.

"I know, general, it looks unlikely, However, I have a theory that might explain it."

Oraka's mandibles twitched.

"I'd love to hear it. We've studied human physiology. They seem to be a bit more flexible than most species in their ability to deal with varying living conditions, but not THAT much. Spirits, even krogan or vorcha wouldn't settle on that kind of planets."

"True, but if I'm right, they didn't have a choice."

"How so?"

Daraya hesitated. She had tried to explain her theory to one of general Arterius' staff officers only for it to be summarily dismissed.

"General, from what I understood of the initial reports, captain Livestian tried to contact the humans using a prothean data-format, but never received a response. He theorised that the humans might not even be aware of the protheans. If that is true, they would have been forced to figure out space travel on their own, without the sort of jump-start that other species received."

"So?"

"So, I would expect their initial attempts at interstellar travel to have been very primitive, very slow. They might even have started out using sub-light travel. What if they had no practical way of travelling long distances? From what I understand they are not very long-lived. That places an upper limit on the time they could spend travelling. They'd need to make do with whatever planets they found in the surrounding star-systems, rather than being able to pick and chose."

Oraka slowly sat down. His expression, which had so far only shown polite interest, turned grim.

"Did you inform general Arterius of this?"

"I tried, but-"

"But he wouldn't listen, nor any of the officers around him, I would guess." Oraka laughed bitterly. "Nobody wants to hear bad news, matron. And this news, this is very bad."

He looked briefly at her. "You don't quite see it, do you, what this means?"

"Well, I suppose there are more humans than we assumed, but-"

"Not just more humans." Oraka gestured at the map. "From the beginning we assumed that these humans were a young species, just taking their first steps into space. It seemed to make sense. After all, if the humans had been around for a while, surely we would have met them before. But that was based on the assumption that they had developed like us. That they would have spread out quickly along the relay network. Now it seems that they didn't. Spirits know how long it took them to get from the first satellite to their present level of technology. Centuries, most likely. And all the while they were slowly spreading out, colonizing system after system. You don't do that without a massive support infrastructure. Colonies like this need to be built and they need to be maintained. On that kind of planet they'll never be fully self-sufficient. Can you imagine the amount of cargo-space required just to supply all these small colonies, let alone build more of them? Those ships have to be built. What will happen when they apply those manufacturing centres to building weapons, warships? Despite the small size of their region of space, they may well outnumber the Hierarchy in total population and have a relatively larger manufacturing capacity. In the long run wars are decided by resources and industrial capacity, more than by combat prowess, which, by the way, they don't lack. A long-term conflict with them could very well end in disaster."

He seemed to think for a moment. "The main question now is the timescale. Do they have a sufficiently powerful military in place to counter-attack now, or do they have to build it up from scratch? That brings me to the issue I wanted to discuss with you. We've just received a broadcast through the relay."

"What?! Have they-"

The general cut her off with a gesture. "Not a message, really. Certainly not an invitation to open negotiations. In fact, I'm not even sure who it is meant for! Perhaps for us, perhaps for the human population. Or perhaps for their warships. There was at least one frigate lurking around at the time of the surrender. Likely there are more. in any case, it looks somewhat like a news broadcast, the way Citadel News presents information to the public. Here, let me show you."

He activated his omnitool and entered a coded sequence. A new image appeared above the table, next to the star chart.

**-o-o-o-**

The first thing Dayara noticed was the noise. It was hideous! A terrible wailing sound that seemed to pierce her skull. It took her a moment to relate the noise to the image. It showed a city street, a strange city, but still very recognizable. A column of humans was walking along the street, their steps carefully synchronised. They were dressed in clothes of a type she had not seen before among the humans she had met. They seemed robe-like, though much shorter than asari dresses, stopping about half-way down their legs. the colours were dark, green and blue, highlighted with the occasional red and yellow. On their heads, they carried some sort of massive black headgear. The image was strange enough, but what made it truly bizarre was the object that each person seemed to carry under one arm. It was made up of a cloth sack and multiple pipes and seemed to be the source of the wailing noise.

She looked at the general. "Music?"

He nodded. "Terrible, isn't it? But keep watching."

Behind the first group of humans, a long column appeared. Thankfully not making any kind of music. These were dressed differently, much more like the ones she had met. Their clothes were very much identical and all walked with the same steady rythm. It took Daraya a moment to understand what she was looking at. Asari culture, even among the more militant groups, had never developed the concept of a parade, but she remembered images from Khar'shan, of batarian soldiers...

"Soldiers? A military formation?"

"Oh yes. A classic example of a military parade. We turians used to have those, though the concept is old and rarely seen these days. The batarians are still quite fond of them. Keep looking. This is just the beginning."

The image changed. This time it showed night-time. A building that seemed to consist solely of pillars, bathed in floodlight. A different music played, more subdued, as a column of gray-clad humans, carrying burning torches, marched underneath it.

A white column rising up into the sky, its top glittering in the sunlight. The roads curved around it and so did a formation of blue-clad soldiers, marching to yet another tune.

A large square, surrounded by red-stone buildings topped with curiously shaped and coloured spires, Large, wheeled vehicles rumbled along, inter-spaced with squares of human soldiers, these wearing the same style uniform that she had seen among the prisoners.

A white arc, standing alone in what seemed to be the middle of the road. Yet more soldiers marching underneath it.

Another wide street, stairs leading up to yet another building. This one actually seemed to have multiple roofs stacked on top of each other. On the street, soldiers marched along in perfectly aligned squares.

A white, domed building with rows of pillars stretching out to both sides, curving around a large open space. More humans, these clad in blue and yellow uniforms and carrying what looked like archaic pole-arm weapons, stood in a row in front.

Another image, perhaps the most bizarre of all. For a moment Daraya wondered if she was looking at a completely different species. Then she realised she was actually looking at humans, clad in what seemed like metal plates, their metal helmets covered with a strange, white decorations that reached all the way down their backs, but sitting atop what appeared to be...

"Animal transport?!"

"So it would seem. Not as unlikely as you might think. According to historical records, the krogan used animal transport during the Rachni-War. Still, the uniforms and weapons are clearly outdated. In any case, the rest is basically more of the same, until we get to the end."

He manipulated the controls to fast-forward through the recording. Suddenly the image changed to the interior of a building. It showed a large room, filled with people sitting in a semi-circle. At the focal point of the seating arrangement stood a single human, dressed in what appeared to be a fancier version of the uniforms that she had seen on the prisoners. This time there was no music, only a single voice.

"... that the General Assembly of the United Systems hereby declares that a state of war exists between itself and the political entity that calls itself the Turian Hierarchy. Therefore, we, the General Assembly, have decided to grant to general Thomas Spears, the United Systems Military chief-of-staff, plenipotentiary powers to prosecute this war with all means available."

**-o-o-o-**

Oraka stopped the recording.

"There is some more talking, but I think you've seen the highlights."

"And this was sent through the relay as a general broadcast?"

"Yes. As I said before, it is unclear who the intended recipient is. I suppose it could be labelled 'to whom it may concern'. My staff has gone over it several times, but we're still debating the meaning. One thing we can agree on, though, is that it is not good news.

Daraya nodded.

"They didn't even consider themselves to be at war. Perhaps that is why there has been no response. They needed to get this formality out of the way before they could bring themselves to act."

"It certainly looks that way. It also answers my previous question. What we saw, were soldiers. Archaically dressed perhaps, but still soldiers, and they seem to have a lot of them. I cannot even begin to fathom why they would send us a message like this, but-"

"But you think they're coming."

"I'm almost certain they are coming. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but I suspect they'll come through the mass relay sooner rather than later. And when I combine that with the sort of population and industrial resources your results imply them to have, there is no way we can fight them off. Even if we were at full strength, which we're not. You may not realise it, but we're already facing shortages. Everything, even the most basic materials, has to be brought here. In citadel space, or even in the terminus, there is enough commonality between systems that an invading force can usually make do with local equipment, local resources. Here? Human technology is completely incompatible with our own; so, everything has to be shipped in.

There was an odd sense of hopelessness about the general as he pointed at Daraya's star chart.

"It's like setting up a camp next to a thresher maw! We've taken a considerable force, including several dreadnoughts, far beyond our ability to reinforce, and parked them within striking distance of a powerful enemy. If they come through the relay in force, we'll be unable to keep them away from the planet. And when that happens our soldiers will be trapped. There is simply no way to evacuate them in time, especially under fire. And, if they stay down there, they are dead anyway. Humans have levo-gyral aminoacids. You can eat their food. We cannot. Nor is there any kind of facility that can be converted to produce such food. At least, not in the short term, and not without human assistance, which they are unlikely to give. Tell me, matron, do you have ANY idea, how much 50,000 turians eat, even for a short period of time? They'll either starve to death, or be forced to surrender and hope that the humans are willing to feed them. Not a risk I'd like to take!"

"I see." Daraya thought for a moment. "What do you want from me, general? I can attach my report to this recording, for when you send it to general Arterius, but..."

"... but it won't make any difference. I know. The problem is that the only reasonable solution is to evacuate now and retreat. That is simply not going to happen. Arterius has too much invested in this venture. His pride alone would not allow him to run away now. No, I understand that. For better or worse, we're stuck here. No, what I would like is for you to confront some of the human prisoners with this recording. Try to gauge their reaction, and see if our conclusions are correct."

Again a sense of hopelessness pervaded his words.

"At least I'll be able to see the blow coming, before it hits us."

* * *

**Temporary POW facility, Shanxi**

Velina Sosa watched in silence as the recording played. It was not the first time that the blue-skinned alien had tried to interrogate her. Most of her questions had been fairly harmless, dealing with matters of government and society that anyone could have answered from general knowledge. This time was different. As the final Assembly speech drew to a close she looked up.

"What?"

The alien spoke. Her command of human language, with the help of some sort of translation software, was quite good.

"We... need to understand. Need to know what it means."

Velina hesitated, trying to find the right words. Somehow this moment seemed to call for more than a flat statement. Then it came to her. Her family didn't have a tradition of naval service and, before signing up for the military academy, she had gone to a rather classical school in preparation for an academic career. So far her literary training had never been much use, but perhaps this time...

"It means, that though we seemed dead, we were but asleep. Now we speak and our voice is imperial."

**-o-o-o-**

Daraya looked at the human, trying to understand her mood. Human faces, so like asari in many ways were quite expressive. This particular one was, in many ways, one of the least threatening individuals she had ever seen, but right now the look in her eyes reminded Daraya uncomfortably of a varren that had been poked with a stick. She waited, hoping to hear more, but the human seemed disinclined to say more.

As Daraya turned away, she heard the human's voice as a soft whisper following her.

"Bid him therefore consider his ransom; which must proportion the losses we have borne. And tell him, he has betrayed his followers, upon whom condemnation is pronounced!"

Daraya stopped for a moment, then thought better of it. She had to contact Oraka, right away.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**The issue of the invasion force being trapped on the planet was one of my biggest objections to the canon version of the First Contact War. It always seemed strange that the turians never considered this problem. If they lose control of local space, every soldier on the planet is doomed. I figured that at least some of them should realize the danger they're in.  
**

**I know Velina's quoting (Shakespeare, Henry V, ****Act 3, Scene 6) is very incomplete and partially incorrect. ******These are the bits I remembered, about fifteen years after the last time I saw that play. **I deliberately didn't look it up, because she would also be quoting something from distant memory.  
**

**Before an army of angry scotsmen comes looking for me, I personally like bagpipes. A late relative of mine not only played them, but actually built his own. I simply tried to describe how an alien, with a fundamentally different sound reception system (asari don't have ears), would react to hearing them for the first time. Music is a very curious thing and in order to sound right to us it has to follow certain precepts that don't actually make much sense, but just happen to be that way. It seems unlikely that an alien would have the same taste, so even the mildest forms of human music would probably sound terrible to a non-human. Now imagine a bagpipe...  
**


	24. Final deliberations

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Shanxi, countryside**

"Ambush!"

The explosion was strong enough to tip over the assault shuttle and send its occupants flying. The few turian soldiers that were still capable of movement scrambled to the doors, weapons at the ready, as the first bullets started rattling against the hull of the wrecked craft.

"We need reinforcements. NOW!"

* * *

**Arcturus, ****USM HQ**

The main conference room of USM headquarters was filled to the brink with officers in every possible uniform, listening as a tall, lean-faced man, who looked like he had been genetically engineered to play the role of witch hunter in a historical drama, went point by point through his presentation.

"We will go through the relay in three waves. First: all fourteen of our destroyers. Admiral Pressly will command from USM Rozhestvensky. They will clear the area around the relay of any hostile presence and defend it while the second wave makes transit. The second wave will be our main strike force. All four carriers, with a screen of frigates. This will be the most dangerous part of the operation. The carriers will launch their first strike package before making the transit, so our fighters will be ready to engage the moment they arrive, but there is still a window of vulnerability. The destroyers will have to hold off the enemy so that the carriers can open the range to the enemy ships."

Rear-admiral Pressly nodded. He had been recently promoted to fill the position of van Buren, who, if he had survived, would have been second fleet's screen commander. Pressly lacked van Buren's zeal and imagination, but for many of his fellow officers his promotion had been something of a relief. A solid, if unimaginative commander, he could be relied upon to do his duty, without chasing personal dreams.

"Excuse me," one of the marine officers spoke up. "Why not send the fighters through first? They can launch their strike before the fleet makes transit. That way the carriers can go through at their leisure."

Admiral Drescher spoke up before the commander could answer. "Not an option. Large groups of fighters need to be carefully coordinated. Our destroyers are not equipped to handle fighter actions on such a scale. Only carriers have that ability. We've been saying for years that we needed to go back to the old Airborne Warning and Control concept, or Spaceborne in our case: Dedicated mobile platforms that can go with the strike to coordinate large numbers of fighters. Perhaps people will finally listen to us." The admiral shrugged. "But that is for the future. Right now we need to play the hand we've been dealt, and that means that our carriers have to be in Shanxi space before we deploy our strike. Commander, Hackett, please continue."

"Yes ma'am. As soon as second fleet engages the alien warships, the third wave will make transit. This will be the main body of our invasion force. They will punch through to the planet. Admiral Grissom will lead nineteen rapid deployment vessels as well as five auxiliary carriers that have been loaded for planetary assault. The rest of our troops will be transported in cargo ships that have been modified to carry defensive laser clusters. Together they will deliver two marine divisions as well as a brigade of earth's homeguard to the planet."

There were a few smirks among the audience. The difference between the colonial marines and the homeguard had been largely cosmetic ever since the two organizations had been absorbed within the United Systems Military. Still, earth insisted on having its own, separate ground force, even if only in name. Now, for the first time, they would be deployed off-world, a belated attempt by earth's leading politicians to show solidarity with the colonies.

General Perez spoke up. "Our vanguard will launch in platoon-sized groups from the rapid deployment vessels. They will seize key-positions on the planet: Bridge and choke-points, communications centres. The main assault will, of course, be directed at Shanxi City, where we expect the enemy to concentrate most of their forces. Fire-support will be provided by our own Cheyenne dropships, so the navy can keep its fighters to deal with enemy warships. We have also received a number of the new combat drones. This will be their first operational deployment. If they perform as well as the tests suggest, we will even be able to use them inside buidlings."

"Yes sir. Assuming that the invasion goes according to plan, we will then redeploy second fleet toward the newly discovered mass relay through which the enemy entered local space, in anticipation of offensive operations."

Hackett stopped and looked at admiral Drescher, who now took over.

"We are expecting a number of reinforcements to arrive once we have secured Shanxi. Two of first fleet's carriers are standing by in earth orbit and will move to Arcturus as soon as we report success. They will take up a defensive position to cover the Shanxi relay. Also, Graf Spee and her escorts have departed from Thedus. Once we have retaken Shanxi, they will no longer be needed there. Instead, they will join up with second fleet, to give us a five carrier strike-force. Finally, a number of FTL haulers have left sol system with their cargoes."

This caused a few raised eyebrows. The FTL haulers were something of a relic. Relying on the old tachyon shunt drive rather than the newer element zero drives, they were hopelessly slow by modern standards. Their crews relied on cryogenic suspension to keep them asleep during most of the voyage. Their one great virtue was the ability to transport enormous loads, many times larger than could realistically be achieved with the more expensive element zero drives, which made them ideal for hauling large cargoes of raw materials. However, their long travel times had made them obsolete for any purpose that required a quick voyage.

The admiral smiled briefly at the general response. "I know, it came as a bit of a surprise. However, it seems that the folks back home are finally starting to do some long-term planning. The haulers will, of course, take about two months to reach Arcturus, but from there they can transit through the relay to Shanxi. One of them will bring a complete colonization module with housing and equipment. It was scheduled for a new colonization effort. Instead we will use it as a disaster relief for Shanxi. The other haulers are pulling military equipment, in particular a prefabricated fleet battlestation that will be put in Shanxi orbit. It comes complete with docking facilities as well as hangars for five fighter squadrons to bolster local defenses. We will keep the haulers here, and use them to ferry supplies forward to support fleet operations. The delay caused by their long transit time, is a pity, but it cannot be helped. Second fleet will not wait for their arrival. Instead, we will push forward to the new relay, and, if we see the opportunity, fight our way through. We will also complete Auriga's original mission and activate the dormant relay where we originally met these turians. I don't want to have a potential back door into our rear-area just sitting there, waiting to be exploited. We need to know where that relay leads, and who, or what, may be sitting on the other side.

However, all this relies on our ability to successfully retake Shanxi, which is not without its risks. Let's be absolutely clear about this, ladies and gentlemen. Once we engage the enemy, we'll be committed to see this plan through. I will NOT leave our invasion force stranded on the planet and that means we HAVE to evict the alien naval force from Shanxi space. No matter what happens, second fleet will not withdraw from Shanxi, no matter the cost."

* * *

**Shanxi City**

"General Williams, I grow increasingly tired of this."

It was not the first time that the turian commander, who had introduced himself as one Desolas Arterius, had insisted on having this conversation. In fact, for the last few days he had visited Williams daily in his cell and Williams was heartily sick of it. So far, the only useful result seemed to have been a steady improvement of his translation software, which, by now was working exceedingly well.

"That makes two of us."

"General, I believe you do not understand how serious the situation is. This pointless conflict must be brought to an end. Otherwise the consequences will be... severe"

Williams sighed. The alien was sounding like a broken record. "And as I've stated before, you are talking to the wrong person. My authority was limited to the military forces on this planet. No more. For any debate regarding your war against the United Systems, you need to talk to our civilian leadership."

The turian tapped the surface of the table with one talon in an oddly human gesture as he thought for a moment.

"Very well, then let us speak first of matters on this planet. Frankly general, your people are making things very difficult for themselves. I was prepared to put up with a certain amount of passive resistance to our presence here, but there has been an increasing number of violent incidents."

"Really? A hostile occupation force meets with violent resistance. Who'd have thought?" Williams was unsure if the translation software could pick up sarcasm, but the alien seemed to understand his meaning.

"This is no cause for amusement, general. As I have said, I was willing to put up with a certain amount of resentment, but I am NOT willing to lose any more of my soldiers in such futile attacks. Not now the battle for this planet is over."

"Perhaps you should have stayed home then. Failing to plan for the aftermath of battle is a classical mistake in warfare."

The turian seemed to smirk. "It is fortunate that the hierarchy is not without experience in these matters. Having the correct policy in place makes individual planning largely redundant."

"Is that so?"

"It is. For example, one of my shuttlecraft was ambushed as it landed near one of your settlements. Some sort of improvised bomb, I believe, followed by a short firefight. One of my people died and several others were injured." He activated a device attached to his arm and a holographic image appeared. "This is all that is left of the settlement. I don't think your people will try a similar action again."

The image showed a cluster of impact craters, partially filled with rubble.

**-o-o-o-**

For what seemed like an eternity, Williams stared at the image. Then he said, very softly, "Let me understand this perfectly. You actually bombed that settlement in revenge?"

"Not revenge, general, a warning. As I stated before, I believe your people will refrain from such actions in the future."

"You fool. You bloody FOOL!" Disbelieve and rage were striving for dominance in Williams' mind. "Do you have ANY idea what you have done, you maniac?!" He struggled a moment to compose himself. "It is one thing to bombard a building that is occupied by soldiers. But a demonstration strike on a village because of something that happened nearby? Retaliation against civilian targets is expressly forbidden by the laws of war. Do you have any idea of the can of worms you have opened?

The turian seemed confused for a moment.

"I... have no knowledge of these, eh, worms, nor do I understand why they would be in a can. As to the rest of your statement. I find that incomprehensible as well. This is war, general. The only law of war is that one does the utmost to achieve victory. Surely you understand that?"

General Williams shook his head in disbelief.

"God help me, every time I think you xeno-scum couldn't sink any lower you somehow find a way. You may not have any laws for conduct in war. We, however, are just a little more civilized. The ONLY thing that could possibly justify indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets is in response to similar actions by the enemy. From this moment on, any one of your people that were even remotely involved in this matter faces trial, imprisonment, and possibly execution for war crimes, if they are captured. Not to mention that you just gave the United Systems Military a valid excuse to drop nuclear weapons on any one of your cities they might chose."

This time the turian seemed genuinely amused.

"You presume, general Williams, that your military would ever be in a position to do so. That is never going to happen. I would have thought that your own experience so far would have taught you the futility of fighting the hierarchy. You did the best you could, and failed. As for the rest of your people, cowering on the other side of the mass relay, I hope you'll forgive me, but I am less than impressed by a species that actually thinks they can fight a war governed by rules and laws."

Williams almost felt his jaw drop. For several moments he was simply speechless, then he started laughing

"You fool! Why do you think we came up with these rules? Because we had no choice. Our species has spent its entire existence fighting over everything and nothing. We've fought over land, and resources, over political and religious doctrines. We've fought over skin-color! Can you imagine a more trivial reason to fight? Hell, we've fought wars where we couldn't even tell afterwards what the war was about. We needed rules to limit the violence, to limit the death toll. You bomb a village from orbit and you think that makes you look tough? To us it's old news. Bombing a town is pretty much the first thing we did the moment we learned how to get airborne. It's the way our species thinks: every advance in technology we've ever made has been driven by the desire to built better weapons. You look at new technology and say 'oh, shiny.' Humans look at new technology and pretty much the first thing they think is 'how can we use it to kill people.' It took millions of deaths as well as a few nuclear explosions, but we finally realized that indiscriminate bombing just slaughtered the innocent without achieving military objectives, so we outlawed the practice. That doesn't make us weak, it makes us sane. But sanity only goes so far. Trust me, one way or another, there'll be a reckoning. I just hope I'll be around to see it."

* * *

**Citadel, the presidium  
**

"[With nervous anticipation], What is the latest news from the war?"

They had assembled in Tevos' private quarters, rather than one of the formal meeting rooms. After all, this was supposedly a small dinner party, rather than an official diplomatic meeting. However, for a purely social occasion, the mood was rather grim. All three councilors were present, as were the volus and elcor ambassadors. Matriarch Benezia, recently arrived from Thessia had joined as well. The only two non-diplomatic invitees were matriarch Lidanya and captain Shiana Armali, the latter feeling distinctly out of place in this company. Notably absent were the ambassadors for the Hanar and the Batarian Hegemony. The hanar had always maintained a rather distant relationship with the council, unlike the Volus, who were a turian client race; and the elcor, who were closely affiliated with the asari. As such the hanar ambassador, though informed of the situation around the newly discovered species, had elected not to get involved with what he termed 'a turian matter'. The batarian ambassador had been informed as well, that had been inevitable, but no-one had wanted to risk involving him deeper than necessary in what was already an extremely volatile situation.  
Councillor tevos looked at the elcor ambassador.

"It seems we are reaching a critical stage." She turned toward her turian colleague. "Councillor?"

Sparatus nodded stiffly. "Yesterday, I received a message from general Oraka, the second in command of the occupation force. He believes, with good reason, that the humans are preparing a counter-attack. According to his estimates, our occupation force will not be able to contain them, which means that not only will we likely lose a significant number of soldiers and equipment, we may well face an incursion in citadel space in the near-future. When that happens, it will be almost impossible to stop this conflict from escalating."

"[Hopefully], Could we use the citadel defense fleet to interfere before they attack?"

"No, even if we deploy the citadel defense fleet right now, it may not arrive in time. Getting from Relay 288 to the human colony takes about a week. And if our ships arrive in time, what would they achieve? The humans will come through the mass relay, ready to fight. We cannot reasonably expect them to stop at the last moment. Matriarch Lidanya would likely have no opportunity to speak before her ships would be forced to defend themselves. And, once our ships join the battle, it will be far more difficult to persuade the humans to negotiate with us at all. We have to remain neutral to have a chance at diplomacy."

"Exactly." Tevos agreed. "And that is why timing is of the essence. We cannot move before the humans strike. The primarch is simply not listening to us. But neither can we wait until the humans come looking for vengeance. In between these two moments lies a small window of opportunity. We, not the primarch, will be the first to send reinforcements to stop the humans. That way, we'll finally be able to dictate the course of events. We'll present the humans with a new face, a new organization, and new people to interact with. Hopefully that will be enough to convince them to wait and start talking. We'll push for a ceasefire. Now I don't expect that to be easy, but to be honest, I'm willing to give in to almost any demands they might have to be able to put an end to this madness."

"And with a ceasefire in place... You can present the primarch... With a done deal." The volus ambassador sounded like he was laughing inside his suit. "I could wish I'd be there... To see his face... when he hears the news."

"If all goes according to plan, yes. However, there are three major obstacles. FIrst of all, we need to send only asari and salarian ships. The turian detachment of the CItadel Defense Fleet has to remain behind, because the humans would recognize those ships as their enemies. That means that we have to persuade the turian commanders that it is their duty to stay behind, preferably without them alerting the primarch. The last thing we need is for a turian reinforcements to arrive while we are in the middle of negotiating a truce."

"Agreed," Lidanya said. "I have been laying the groundwork for this move, letting the ship commanders know about my worries with regard to the situation and putting the fleet on high alert, just in case it becomes necessary to defend citadel space. They will not be surprised when I tell them to deploy. As for the turian detachment. I believe that I can handle that with the help of councilor Sparatus."

"So," Tevos continued. "That leaves two problems. Unfortunately, their solution lies primarily with these humans, and we simply don't know enough about them to predict how they will react. We need to get them to talk, rather than shoot at our ships, and, once that has been achieved, we need to make sure that they keep talking. For the former, we hope that the appearance of a powerful force, especially the Destiny Ascension, will at the very least give them pause. When general Arterius attacked their colony, he had a brief conversation with the commander of their warships. It was futile, but at least they were willing to answer him. We have a copy of the translation software that an asari team developed before the invasion. While not perfect, it seems to have worked reasonably well. By now, the humans themselves may have made progress toward a working translation as well, so we will at least be able to communicate. That leaves the final problem. Can we persuade them to give formal negotiations a chance? That will be Matriarch Benezia's responsibility."

Matriarch Benezia smiled. "Yes, of course. I do expect that it will be something of a challenge to get them to agree. After all, their first impressions of galactic society must have been less than favorable. Still, thanks to the efforts of captain Armali-" she nodded graciously at the captain."-and her crew, we know that they can be reasonable, when given the chance. Of course, we will have to approach them carefully, but I'm sure that, once they have seen the benefits that membership of the galactic community offers-"

Shiana listened as the Matriarch explained her vision for the integration of this new species into galactic society. After the frustrations of the preceding weeks it was good to have a more hopeful vision of the future. Still, the couldn't quite shake a sense of unease. Before coming to this meeting she had had a last opportunity to speak to Benezia's daughter, Liara, who would be returning to Thessia, now that her internship aboard the Light of Dawn was finished. Liara's reaction to the news that her mother had arrived and would shortly set out on a diplomatic mission to the humans had been... curious.

_"You seem worried. Do you believe the humans would harm her?"_

_Liara gave her a strange look_

_"That's the least of my concerns captain. I'm more worried about the results of her mission. My mother..., she may not be the best choice for this assignment." _

_Shiana was shocked. Matriarch Benezia had had a long and distinguished career, both in government and diplomacy. Who could be better suited to-_

_"Benezia is a racist." Liara ignored Shiana's shocked exclamation and kept staring into her drink. "It's subtle, but that doesn't change the facts. She believes, honestly believes, that asari are inherently superior to all other species. She doesn't want to kill them, or anything like that, she just feels sorry for them. It's really a gentle sort of racism. She just thinks that our words should count for more than the words of others. That the other species should be guided by our wisdom, the poor things, because we know so much better." At last, Liara raised her head and looked at the Shiana. "I just don't think that the humans will be in the mood to be condescended to; and when that happens... For all her diplomatic accomplishments, my mother is not very patient when people refuse to listen." _

Shiana allowed herself to relax as she listened to Lady Benezia's plans for integrating the humans into the galactic community. The Matriarch's confidence was reassuring and Shiana found herself envying the older asari for her ability to inspire those around her. Still she couldn't quite silence the nagging little voice in her head. They were planning the future of another species. Would it not be better to actually consult these people before making such detailed plans?

* * *

**Arcturus System**

The area around the mass relay was more crowded than it had ever been in recorded history. Four fleet carriers, five auxiliary carriers, fourteen destroyers, nineteen rapid deployments vessels, and eighteen frigates were spread out around the relay. The greatest concentration of firepower humanity had produced in its long and bloody history, they were ready, waiting for the signal.

-From fleet-flagship USM Ark Royal to All ships: Clear for action.

-From fleet-flagship USM Ark Royal to All ships: Formal notification: Second fleet at full readiness. Expect immediate engagement.

-From fleet-flagship USM Ark Royal to USM Rozhestvensky: Deploy.

The mass relay spun up, enveloped by the blue-ish glare of its mass effect field. Then, in an instant, fourteen destroyers vanished from local space.

-Received through the mass relay. From USM Rozhestvensky to fleet flagship USM Ark Royal: Relay secure, enemy sighted, moving to attack.

-From USM Ark Royal to second fleet: Deploy

Again the mass relay spun up. Led by the four fleet carriers, the balance of United Systems Military's second fleet departed for its long delayed appointment with destiny.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Cue ****Basil Poledouris' music for the Klendathu Drop. It's taken me a while, but we're finally there.**

* * *

**Pressly from ME1 had a father who served in the First Contact War and the ages work out pretty well for him to have been a senior captain or junior flag officer.**

**Obviously, my reading of Benezia is strictly a personal interpretation. In canon we know very little about her. However, what we know does not inspire me with much confidence. ****She was very powerful and respected, but we never find out for what. The one thing we see her do, she messes up completely: Saren. Seriously, what was she thinking? She finds out that the council's favourite spectre is a megalomaniac, and a racist, with violent tendencies. What does she do? She allies herself with them in the hope that she can 'guide him toward a gentler course'. I don't know what is worse: the arrogance, or the stupidity of this care-bear approach. She was a powerful person in her own right. She could have gathered evidence and exposed him, or have him assassinated. Anything but this. To me it sounds like she was a bit of an ivory-tower intellectual. Intelligent, maybe, but not very practical.**

**I'm trying to stick to my naming conventions. Admiral Rozhestvensky commanded the Russian fleet that sailed around the world only to be destroyed at Tsushima. I always felt sorry for the guy. He had an impossible job and he knew it. It is actually quite remarkable that he managed to keep his fleet together and reach his destination. So, in my universe history has rehabilitated him and the navy has named a ship after him.  
Tannhauser Gate was obviously not a real amphibious operation. It's actually from Blade Runner, but it was a landing operation, and I liked the name.**

**The FTL haulers space-going tug-boats like Nostromo from the first Alien movie. A very practical concept, as long as you can afford to take your time.**

* * *

**I have received some questions regarding the military parades and locations I described in the last chapter. I kept the descriptions fairly vague, because it is seen through the eyes of an alien who has no idea what she is looking at, but I did use real life locations/organisations. In order of appearance:**

**The Black Watch, Royal Regiment of Scotland (location not specified)**

**Brandenburger Tor, Berlin. The nighttime parades with the torches are authentic, you can find it on youtube.**

**Washington Monument, Washington DC**

**Red Square, Moscow**

**Arc-de-Triomphe, Paris**

**Entrance to the Forbidden City, Beijing**

**Swiss Guard, St Peter's church, Vatican City**

**Polish Winged Hussars (location not specified, but Spears said he wanted them on the streets of Warsaw). While originally light cavalry, the Polish 'Hussaria' evolved into a powerful strike force, heavily armed and armoured, that resembled medieval knights more than the Western European hussars.  
**


	25. Let slip the dogs of war

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**HNV Force of Justice, Shanxi space**

One moment, all was quiet. The next, alarms shrieked and general Oraka stormed onto the bridge of his flagship.

"Report!"

"Sir. Relay activating. Ships in transit."

"Recall the fighter patrol and alert the fleet. I want all ships ready to engage."

**-o-o-o-**

The mass relay glowed brightly, it's core spinning faster than the eye could follow. Then, with a single, blinding burst of light, fourteen ships appeared in local space.

"Sir, fourteen ships on sensors. Human design, cruiser sized."

"Only fourteen?"

"Yes sir."

General Oraka thought briefly. Fourteen cruisers could hurt him badly, but they would not be strong enough to defeat the turian fleet, even after the losses they had taken during their initial battle for the system. He still had three dreadnoughts, two undamaged and one partially functional, as well as seventeen cruisers. His main weakness lay in his frigates. The small ships had taken a bad beating during the initial battle. Normally a force this size would have at least twenty-five frigates to act as a screen. Instead, he had little more than half that number. The others had been either destroyed, send back home to make repairs, or had been dispatched to escort the cargo ships that were supplying the invasion force. However, the main purpose of frigates in a fleet engagement was to screen the larger ships from fighter attacks. A lack of frigates would be a major concern when attacking a hostile star system, where planets and space stations could put a significant fighter force in space. On defense it was less relevant, because the attacking fleet would only be able to deploy its organic fighter strength. So far, no human ship had been observed to carry fighters. Even if the humans launched fighters from facilities beyond the relay, those would be limited in their effectiveness because they would have to return through the relay to resupply. No, fourteen cruisers would not be enough to defeat him. Unfortunately, the humans had to know that too. And they wouldn't launch an attack like this unless they had good reason to believe it would be successful.

"We're missing something."

Captain Hastian, the ship's commanding officer, nodded. "I agree, general. They cannot hope to defeat us with this force."

"So, why send it at all? They are not stupid."

"Perhaps..."

"Yes captain?"

Hastian hesitated. "General, perhaps they have come to negotiate."

Oraka looked at him quizzically. "With fourteen cruisers?"

"Sir, they may feel the need to ensure the safety of their envoys."

It was not a pleasant thought. Whatever other species might think of them, the turian Hierarchy prided itself on its strict adherence to the law. They could be ruthless, yes, but to attack diplomats on a peace mission? That would never happen. Unfortunately, he could not really disagree. After recent events it was unlikely that the humans had a very favorable impression of the Hierarchy, or turians in general.

"Perhaps. If so, we can find out quickly enough. Open a channel. Meanwhile, leave four cruisers in orbit around the planet. Form up the rest of the fleet on the flagship."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Rozhestvensky**

"Admiral Pressly, the enemy is hailing us."

Rear-admiral Pressly snorted contemptuously. As shown by the data that USM dagger had transmitted two weeks before, the turians had positioned their warships near the planet, rather than on top of the relay. A stroke of good fortune, as it allowed second fleet's carriers to enter the system unopposed. Now his fourteen destroyers, arrayed in two vertical columns of seven ships each, held position between the relay and the enemy. The first, most dangerous phase of the attack had already been completed, without firing a single shot.

"Let them."

"Sir?"

"I said: 'Let them'. The time for talking is past. Send a signal to admiral Drescher: 'Relay secure, enemy sighted, moving to attack.'"

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"No response."

General Oraka sighed. "I supposed it was too much to hope for. But if they're not here to talk, and they cannot hope to defeat us, what are they doing?"

"Sir, relay activating. More ships arriving!"

"So, a staggered entrance. I wonder why. What is the count?"

There was a moment silence.

"Well?"

"General," the sensor tech seemed to have some trouble speaking. "Sir, arrival count is twenty-two ships, plus fighters. The computer estimates it as four dreadnoughts, eighteen frigates, and between one hundred and fifty and two hundred fighters."

That gave everyone pause. It was rare for a dreadnought to carry more than about twenty fighters. Either the human dreadnought design favored fighter complement over firepower, or, more likely, these fighters had been launched from facilities on the other side of the mass relay. Either way, this changed the situation completely. Whatever reason the humans might have had for this staggered entry onto the system, they now possessed the firepower to meet him on equal terms.

"Recall the remaining cruisers from planetary orbit. We're going to need them. Get me a closer look at the dreadnoughts."

It took only a moment to get a visual image.

"Curious."

It seemed the human love for all things box-shaped had not abandoned them when it came to dreadnought design. The ships were large, about a kilometer in length, and shaped like a flat box. On each side of the main hull, a second, smaller box had been attached. As with all human designs, no attempt had been made to create smooth lines.

"Are those engine pods?"

"It's possible, sir, but it seems unlikely. There are clearly identified propulsion units at the rear of the ship, and those two things at the side seem rather large for maneuvering thrusters. They're more likely to contain weapons. Perhaps launching bays for those missiles they're so fond off."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

"Status report!"

"All ships have successfully made transit, ma'am. Hostile force detected in expected location. Sending data requests... Now!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Commander Farnsworth aboard Dagger reporting, ma'am. We're receiving intelligence updates."

"Admiral, main enemy force is holding position. Remaining enemy ships are departing from planetary orbit.

Admiral Drescher nodded. "They're concentrating their forces. Very well. Back us away from the relay. Send half our frigate screen to reinforce admiral Pressly and have our fighters standing by. Then, send a message back through the relay. Transmit the latest intelligence updates and have the invasion force stand by to make transit on my signal."

"Yes, ma'am, communications standing by."

"Good. Send in the first strike."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Enemy dreadnoughts are not advancing, general."

"I see." Oraka stared at the display. This was unexpected. There was absolutely no reason why the dreadnoughts would hang back, while the smaller ships engaged. Still, humans seemed to have their own way of doing things. In fact, during their initial battle for this system-

"Prepare for fighter attack!"

"Sir?"

"Do it!"

Even as he spoke, the human fighters suddenly detached themselves from the main body of the human fleet and accelerated forward.

"There! Remember when we first came here? Their fighters don't operate as part of the fleet. They're going to strike first to soften us up. Then the warships will move in. Spread our remaining frigates out over the front, but don't let them stray outside the GARDIAN envelope of our larger units. We've seen how that ends. They'll need all the support they can get."

Captain Hastian nodded. "I understand, sir. What about our fighters?"

"What about them?" Oraka laughed bitterly. "After our losses in the first battle, and without the fighters we stationed planet-side to support general Arterius, they'll be outnumbered more than three to one and we've already seen they have trouble dealing with the humans on equal terms. If we send them out, they'll be slaughtered. No, we have to let the frigates absorb the first blow. Then send in the fighters to pick off any isolated enemy they can find.

**-o-o-o-**

One hundred and eighty fighter craft, sixty F-302 strike fighters and one hundred and twenty SA-23 space superiority fighters, were racing ahead of the human fleet, converging on a point in space where they would encounter their targets. It was a sore point for the United Systems Navy that, in its entire existence, it had only once been unable to fight a battle the way they were supposed to fight it, and that battle had been a defeat. Before first contact they had simply had no enemy to give them a battle on such scale, and the initial skirmishes with the turians had been between a handful of isolated warships in empty systems. Unfortunately, when the turians invaded Shanxi, finally providing a real naval engagement, a lack of local resources had force admiral van Buren to improvise and prevented him from achieving the results that were expected for this kind of engagement. Or, at least, that was what the proponents of classic naval doctrine said. Others disagreed, arguing vehemently that the engagement proved that humanity's space naval warfare doctrine, ultimately a direct evolution of pre-space wet-navy experience, was inherently flawed and should have been abandoned long ago. Now, finally, it would be put to the test.

"Enemy formation change. Frigates positioned ahead of main force."

The pilots heard the message but continued on course. The turians' use of frigates as an advanced screen against fighter attack had been part of their briefing. It would be a nuisance, of course. No pilot worthy of the name would want to waste his ordnance on a mere frigate when there were larger targets around, but, on the other hand, simply ignoring the frigates was a suboptimal option as well as the small ships would exact a heavy toll on any fighter squadron that tried to bypass them. This had greatly reduced the effectiveness of Shanxi's fighter squadrons, which had been limited to engaging the turian frigates. Hopefully, this time things would be different

"Turnover point."

Normally the fighters would have cut their acceleration at this stage and engaged reverse thrust in order to match speed with the enemy formation, allowing for a zero-zero intercept. That would give them the best possible firing solution. This time, their approach vector had been calculated differently. The pilots cut their acceleration, allowing their fighters to coast on ballistic trajectories, and engaged their targeting sensors. At such a high approach speed they would have little time to lock onto a target and they needed every second.

Below each F-302 the on-board guidance systems of their missiles woke up, interfaced with the board computers, and started looking for targets.

**-o-o-o-**

Normally, a strike package of sixty F-302s would have carried a total of two-hundred-and-forty missiles in internal weapon bays. Instead, they carried only half that number, two missiles each, on hardpoints underneath the wings. It was an awkward arrangement, and would have prevented the fighters from entering an atmosphere until after the missiles had been launched. Under the circumstances that was largely irrelevant, and the smaller number of missiles was more than compensated by their longer effective range and their warheads.

"Targets acquired."

On board each F-302 the computer selected the targets that its missiles could reach and arranged them in order of the likelihood of a successful engagement. This list was then transmitted to the nearby fighters, which compared those lists to their own. Within seconds, each fighter was aware of the targets that each of the other fighters in its squadron could reach, and a new targeting solution, optimized for each fighter squadron was broadcast, prioritizing the most important targets while maintaining the highest possible to-hit chance. It was an old concept, dating back to atmospheric fighters of the twentieth century **(1)**. It was not particularly popular with the pilots, who disliked anything that limited their ability to make independent decisions, but peacetime exercises had proven time and again that it would yield the best results when dealing with large-scale attacks.

"Entering engagement range."

One hundred and eighty pilots each flipped a switch and one hundred and eighty electronic warfare systems powered up. They had waited until the last moment, denying the turians the chance to get advance knowledge of the jamming routines that would be used on this strike.

"Launch! Launch! Launch!"

One hundred and twenty missile broke away from their fastenings, lit of their engines, and sped ahead of their launch aircraft. Behind them the fighters tightened their formations, blasting electronic noise on all frequencies as the pilots peered through their head-up displays, ready for the next phase of the engagement.

**-o-o-o-**

The turians had not been caught unprepared. All of them had seen the effect of massed human fighter strikes during the initial invasion and they had used the time since to prepare an effective response. Still, the situation was problematic. The human missiles relied purely on passive sensors to detect their targets, limiting the effectiveness of both electronic warfare systems and counter missile fire at the same time that those systems were being thrown back by the electronic noise emanating from the human fighters. Moreover, the attack pattern was different. During the first battle, the humans had volleyed their missiles at the frigate screen, while their fighters stayed out of the GARDIAN laser envelope. This time it was different. The fighters were still approaching at high velocity, clearly intent on penetrating the turian formation. That meant that soon the defenders would have to split their fire. Meanwhile, the missiles...

**-o-o-o-**

One-hundred-and-twenty missiles, spread over a wide front to reduce the effective firepower of the defenders, swept toward the turian formation. Each had been assigned a specific target in order to maximize their effectiveness. That assignment had been based on three parameters: Can I reach this target before the engine burns out, how many ships will be firing at me on the way in, and what is the value of the target? The first condition was clear. the second less so, as it depended on the effective range of the turian counter-missile defenses, which was only partially known. As for the third, Normally that would have been simply a matter of size. The bigger the target, the higher the priority. This time, priorities were different. Now each missile was locked on course, using an inertial navigation system to fly a specific course before on-board sensors would home in on the selected target.

One-hundred-and-three missiles left.

Defensive lasers lashed out, again and again, steadily reducing the number of missiles.

Eighty-eight missiles left.

Unlike their bigger brothers, the ASAT missiles, these missiles could not keep track of such matters while in flight. Instead, the targeting solution simply allowed for a certain amount of attrition by assigning twice as many missiles to each target as was thought to be required.

Sixty-three missiles left

The missiles reached the frigate screen. Second fleet's planners had tried to estimate the amount of firepower that would be needed to deal with the frigate-screen based on the reports from the first naval battle of Shanxi. Inherently, their plans were flawed, but they had been aware of that and erred on the side of caution. Now their calculations were put to the test. According to their estimates at least four missile hits would be needed to put a turian frigate out of action. By the time the missiles went into their terminal guidance phase, there were, on average, five left for each frigate.

The first missile hit its target, despite desperate last-minute laser fire from the defending gunners, and exploded in a blinding flash of nuclear fire, stripping the frigate of its kinetic barriers and blinding its sensors, leaving it helpless against the next missile. These missiles were old; their design dated back to the early days of the United Systems when a weak, scared government had been faced with the possibility of widespread revolt among the colonies, and sought to arm its military for a civil war that never became a reality. Since then they had been kept in storage, weapons without a target, considered by many to be something of a nuisance because of the risk that their warheads, relatively small but with a 10 kT yield, would fall into the wrong hands and be used by terrorists or guerrillas. In the aftermath of the battle for Shanxi, when it became clear that the navy's standard ship-attack missiles lacked the necessary range and firepower to deal efficiently with the alien warships they had been reactivated and mated with the F-302 fighters that, through a combination of hidebound tradition and fore-sight, had been equipped with the necessary hard-points and guidance systems to launch them, even though they had been designed and built decades after the missiles had been placed in reserve.

The effect was devastating. Turian plans had been based on the performance of the smaller, conventionally armed missiles they had previously encountered. Against those the overlapping fields of fire of the frigates should have been reasonably effective, especially after their defensive suites had been updated based on their observations of the missiles' performance envelope. While it was inevitable that some of the missiles would get through, their warheads were known to lack the firepower to destroy a warship, unless they hit in very large numbers. Not so for these warheads. While they lacked the massive destructive power of the ASAT warheads, they had the advantage of exploding directly against the target, rather than at a distance. If they had been spread evenly over their targets they would most likely have taken out the frigate screen completely. In practice that could not be achieved as the defensive fire had opened some gaps in the missile distribution.  
Two frigates, each hit by at least seven missiles in rapid succession, disappeared in massive explosions as their eezo cores collapsed. Three others spun out of formation, propulsion units disabled or in some cases torn completely off, and two more staggered, bleeding air and debris as their hulls buckled under the impacts. Of the remaining seven, only one was completely undamaged.

The next moment the human fighters were upon them, sweeping through the frigate screen guns blazing, while turian defenders desperately tried to reset their blinded targeting systems. The high closing speeds meant that the engagement lasted only a few seconds, but in that instant the concentrated fire of a hundred-and-eighty fighters tore largely unopposed into the weakened shields and armor of the remaining frigates. By the time the fighters rushed past they had lost less than half a dozen of their number, but a third frigate had exploded and four more were effectively out of action. The rest were all damaged to a certain extent.

The fighters continued their dash, straight into the defensive laser fire of the cruisers and dreadnoughts. These did better, but they, too, had been affected by the unexpected nuclear explosions and needed time to recover. Turian fighters rushed forward in a valiant effort to stop the oncoming tide, but they were hopelessly outnumbered and the human pilots were, in any case, not interested in dogfighting. They swept around the turian fighters left and right, shooting at any target of opportunity that appeared in their gunsights.

It took only a few seconds before the fighters emerged on the other side of the turian fleet. This time they had taken significant losses. More than twenty fighters were gone completely and at least twice that number had taken damage to some extent. However, behind them the wreckage of at least thirty turian fighters, about two thirds of those that entered the engagement, was left spinning among the turians ships, many of which had lost sensors and laser clusters.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

"Strike complete."

Admiral Drescher studied the results. The losses matched the predictions, more or less. As to the results...

"We've cut their defensive screen in half, ma'am; and, unless they have some reserves stowed away, their fighters are pretty much gone."

The admiral stared at her display for a few more seconds, then she looked up.

"Good. It seems theory was right after all. Prepare to launch the second strike; and tell the invasion transports to get moving."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"General! They're making another transition."

Oraka stared at the haptic display in front of him and muttered a few very harsh curses. His ships were still trying to recover from the fighter strike. The last thing he needed was additional enemies. Besides, the tactical situation was strange enough already. the first human force was still between him and the relay, advancing slowly, but clearly in no hurry to make contact. the second group, including all four dreadnoughts had actually retreated from the relay, opening the distance, which made no sense at all. Even after the damage he had taken from the fighters the fourteen human warships of the first group had no hope of defeating him in a gun battle. They would absolutely need the support of those dreadnoughts, so why did the humans insist on keeping their forces separate?

"General, the new force is... is approximately twenty cruiser-sized ships. We've identified them as the same type that captain Livestian encountered during first contact. There are five larger warships, somewhere between a cruiser and a dreadnought, and a number of transports."

"Transports?"

"Yes, sir. They're large, but with low energy signatures. Definitely not warships."

"That's the planetary assault force. Has to be. Send a warning to general Arterius. He's about to have company."

Oraka kept studying his displays. The human actions started to make sense. They had send through their primary strike force first in order to draw his fleet away from the planet, but kept their landing force in reserve on the other side of the relay, ready to move, once they had established a presence in local space. Now they had made transit as well, which meant that the human commander was confident of a victory in space. He'd have to disabuse them of that notion.

"Take the fleet forward. We'll move through the first human force, take out as many as we can, then engage the dreadnoughts."

Captain Hastian hesitated. "General, what about this new force? If we move against the dreadnoughts, they'll be able to reach the planet unopposed."

"I know." Oraka nodded. "But we have no alternative. If we return to the planet we'll be trapped in the gravity well, while they can dance all around us. Think about it: they won't even have to attack us. We'll be cut off from any resupply, while they can get anything they want through the relay. No, we have to deal with their warships first. If we succeed in defeating them, any human attempt at landing on the planet will be doomed anyway. Order our transports away from the planet. I don't want them to get caught in orbit"

* * *

**Shanxi space**

Four formations of warships, three human and one turian, were now maneuvering around each other, following complicated flight paths. For the humans it was the largest space battle they had ever fought; for the turians the largest since the Krogan Rebellions, fifteen-hundred years earlier. For the galaxy at large, it would be the greatest battle since the Morning War. The largest human warships had ceased their retreat and were now holding position on the far side of the mass relay. The destroyers had done the same, but in a position between the mass relay and the advancing turian warships. Meanwhile, the third human formation was now accelerating away from the relay, setting a course that would allow them to match Shanxi's orbit. Take into account that both the relay and the planet themselves were moving in their orbits, and you ended up with a complicated set of maneuvers for everyone involved. The human carriers needed to stay outside the engagement range of the turians, but close enough to recover their fighters and coordinate the next strike. The destroyers needed to intercept the turians in such a way that they would be able to remain in action, rather than simply passing through the turian formation. The invasion force needed to reach the planet as quickly as possible, but in such a way that the troop transports and auxiliary carriers could enter orbit. Meanwhile, the turians needed to engage the human destroyers first in order to take them out of action, but without slowing down so they could move on and engage what they still believed to be humanity's primary gun platforms.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Human ships are launching additional fighters!"

"What? How many."

"Sir, the estimate is least another hundred-and-fifty fighters."

For a moment Oraka's mind seemed simply frozen, incapable of accepting what he had heard. The fighters from the initial strike had curved away from his fleet, returning toward the mass relay. The damage they had inflicted had been painfull, but he had been able to console himself with the thought that they would need to retreat through the relay to resupply, effectively taking them out of the battle. Even if the dreadnoughts had not yet deployed their own fighters there was now way they could carry that many. How-

"Maximum acceleration!"

"Sir?"

"Maximum acceleration! Ignore their cruisers! Close with the larger ships."

"Yes, sir!" Turian discipline took over as orders went out among the fleet. Still, while turian discipline might be strict, it wasn't unthinking.

"General, if I may ask..."

"Those aren't dreadnoughts."

"Sir?"

"Look at them! Look at what they are doing, what they have been doing." General Oraka seemed to age years in the few moment that it took him to speak. "If they were dreadnoughts they would have closed on us by now. Instead they backed off. They aren't dreadnoughts at all. They're dedicated fighter platforms. Think about it! How many fighters can you pack inside a hull like that, if you don't need space for anything else? We have to close with them and engage, or they'll tear us apart with fighter strikes."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Tannhauser Gate **

In the command center of his flagship, admiral Grissom studied the plot that showed the progress of his ships as Tannhauser Gate led eighteen other rapid deployment vessels in their high-speed dash for Shanxi. Behind them came the five auxiliary carriers and the transports that carried most of the marine landing force.

"We'll go with plan Beta."

"Sir?"

"The enemy have concentrated their forces. None of them can intercept us now."

"Yes sir. Relaying your orders now."

A moment later the nineteen RDVs increased their acceleration, changing their approach vector as they dashed ahead of the rest of the fleet. The default plan had called for the entire assault force to remain in one group, limiting their approach speed to that of the slowest ships, but with the enemy already moving away from the planet and no warships remaining in orbit there was no need to screen the transports. Instead, the RDVs would race ahead, allowing them to deploy their assault shuttles as early as possible, then continue with their secondary mission to stop any attempt by the turian warships to return to the planet and interfere with the landing operation.

**-o-o-o-**

As the ships raced onward, and the approaching planet grew larger and larger on the view screens, massive hatches opened on each side and crane arms slid outward, each holding a shuttle suspended next to the hull of the ship. The RDVs swept into orbit on a carefully calculated trajectory. This was the most dangerous part of the operation, something that no human pilot could have accomplished, and maneuvering thrusters fired as computers made last-minute course corrections to lock each ship in the correct trajectory while they used the local gravity field to slow them down as they curved around the planet. Then, still purely under computer control, magnetic clamps detached and from each vessel six shuttles, a mixed group of Viking troop transports and Super-Cheyenne assault-dropships sped away, braking sharply to match the planetary rotation as they plummeted toward the surface of Shanxi. Meanwhile, the warships raced onward, breaking away from the planet and turning toward the turian fleet.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

General Oraka swore under his breath as a wave of dropships streamed toward Shanxi. The humans had tricked him. _No, that's not correct. I've deceived myself. I was so sure that those large warships were dreadnoughts. That's why I recalled back the cruisers and left the planet wide open._ That had been a crucial mistake. Unwilling to face the onslaught of four dreadnoughts without his full strength, he had ordered the remaining ships to withdraw from orbit and rendez-vous with the main body of the fleet, fully expecting the humans to engage him before they made their move toward the planet.

Instead, the humans had split their forces. The initial wave, joined by about half of the frigates was keeping station relative to his own fleet, exchanging long range fire while their electronic warfare systems were probing his sensors and communication network. The larger vessels had taken up a position on the other side of the relay, screened by the remaining frigates. They didn't need to go anywhere near his forces. Their main offensive weapons, their fighters, could reach the turian fleet anywhere in the system. He, on the other hand, had no way to strike back. His few remaining fighters would be slaughtered before they could get anywhere near the human warships. He would have to advance with his own ships and that would mean fighting his way past the smaller human warships, all the while absorbing strike after strike from their fighters.

Meanwhile, the planet was wide open and the third wave of human warships was taking full advantage of that fact. The smaller ships had dropped their assault force and were now slowly approaching the turian fleet, threatening his flank. According to captain Livestian's original report, these ships were not particularly powerful in ship-to-ship combat; understandable, as it now seemed that they had been designed for planetary assault. Still, there were a lot of them and he'd have to engage them with secondary weapons, or turn his ships around, which in turn would leave them vulnerable to the human cruisers.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**(1) Authentic. It is available on the MiG 31 foxhound. A flight of 8 interceptors can use a real-time data link to determine automatically which plane fires at what target.**

**Time to go medieval on the turians. And I just reached 100,000 words, so cause for celebration.**

**For the appearance of the human carriers I'm thinking of the X304 class from Stargate SG1. I suppose battlestar galactica could work too, but I don't like the massive gun batteries. These are really supposed to be purely fighter platforms.  
**

**Obviously the landing is based on the Klendathu drop from Starship troopers (the movie) I loved the imagery of that scene. However, rather than having the ships just kind-of hang in orbit, I decided on the high-speed approach that Robert Heinlein actually describes in his book. **


	26. D-Day

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Shanxi**

Lieutenant Oleg Petrovsky, part-time officer in the Shanxi militia and currently fugitive from the turian occupation, studied the turian outpost through his binoculars. It was a small building, clearly prefab, that had been put up near the bridge to serve as housing for the turian soldiers. A gun turret had been placed on a nearby hill. A second turret was visible in the distance, in a similar high position on the opposite side of the river. It was a worthwhile target and, more importantly, was preventing him and his soldiers from crossing to the other side. Under normal circumstances he would have considered attacking it, even with the limited resources at his disposal. Unfortunately, the circumstances were far from normal.  
The past couple of weeks had been difficult. He, and the few remaining soldiers of his unit had fled into the countryside when the call to surrender came. Since then, they remained hidden, living rough and begging supplies from local farmers. Initially, it had been nearly impossible to maintain discipline and keep his soldiers from doing something foolish; like attacking turian patrols, which, though satisfying, would undoubtedly have ended in their deaths. Fortunately, the turians themselves had solved that problem for him when they started their retaliation strikes. Three destroyed villages and about two thousand civilian deaths later and Petrovsky found it much easier to keep his soldiers in check. So, rather than throwing their lives away and endangering civilians in futile attacks, they had waited, observing as much of the invaders as they could, hoping that they could remain hidden until relief showed up.  
From what they had observed, the turians were fond of routine. Patrols, changes of the guard, they all occurred with metronomic precision according to an intricate, but ultimately repetitive, pattern.  
Now, something had changed. The guard had been doubled and the small prefab buildings had been sealed up. Initially, Petrovsky had thought that the turians had been alerted to the presence of his small band of fugitives and expected him to attack the outpost, but that seemed unlikely. If they were aware of his presence they would have increased their patrols and used their shuttles to search the hills. No, something else was happening.

"LT, listen to this!" His radio operator was waving a headset. "Listen! It just popped up on the net."

With a faint sigh of annoyance, Petrovsky abandoned his position. One thing that had definitely been lost was the proper distance between officers and enlisted. Still, under the circumstances, that was inevitable and he had never been that much of a fan of the whole martinet nonsense anyway. With no more than a cold stare, he took the headset and held it to his ear.

"... to all units. I repeat ... calling all United System Units..." The signal was garbled, sometimes with multiple voices overlapping, then only random noise. "... ETA ... thirty ... Dropship ..."

Petrovsky and the radio operator looked at each other. Then, as by mutual decision, they looked up. High above them, a long, white vapor trail had appeared, standing out against the blue sky, then another, and another.

**-o-o-o-**

**Super-Cheyenne dropship, on approach to Shanxi**

"You're in an express elevator to hell! And it's going down!"

Anderson rolled his eyes. O'Connor's attempts at humor tended to be on the lame side. Of course, under present circumstances, anything that relieved tension, no matter how cliched, was welcome. The UD-4Y Super-Cheyenne was plummeting down toward the planet at a terrifying speed, coming in on the steepest trajectory that the pilots could manage without bouncing off the atmosphere.

"Five-by-five, we're in the pipe." That was the voice of one of the pilots, confirming that they were on the correct descent.

Anderson closed his eyes and forces himself to relax. For the moment there was nothing he could do. The dropship would either make it to the ground or not.  
The Super-Cheyenne shook violently as it plunged into the atmosphere. The temperature rose steadily while internal cooling systems struggled in vain against the friction heating. Minutes passed while the pilots struggled to keep the dropship on course and the marines were slammed repeatedly into their shock frames.  
Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the dropship leveled off, changing from an essentially ballistic trajectory to a glide, and finally to powered flight as the air-breathing jets activated. It was a series of maneuvers that they knew well. The UD-4Y was the last incarnation of the UD-4 series, that had carried colonial marines into battle for generations, long before the founding of the United Systems Military. By now they held a special place in military history. In fact, it had been a UD-4 that had carried lieutenant Gorman and his ill-fated platoon into battle on LV-426, the event seen by many as the beginning of the chaotic years that saw the power of the companies broken, only to be replaced by the bureaucracy of the United Systems. Of course, some things had changed. In Gorman's time, the marines would have been huddled together inside an M577 APC, a vehicle that had become nearly as infamous as the unfortunate lieutenant. The M577s had been scrapped or sold to planetary militias, and their successor, the Grizzly APC, was far too big to fit inside the cargo bay of any of the Cheyenne series, or even the larger Vikings. A new vehicle, the MAKO, was supposed to take over the combat insertion role, but so far that particular program had not even resulted in a prototype. As a result, the marines would just have to walk the final distance. In practice, few regretted the loss, even though it meant that the initial assault would lack armor support. The M577s with their non-existent ground-clearance and over-complicated weapon systems had always been more trouble than they were worth.

"Communications established. All ships reporting successful atmospheric entry."

Anderson let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. This was very good news. His platoon, spread out over two Super-Cheyennes and four Vikings, was still intact. If they could make it all the way to the surface without losses, they were far more likely to achieve their objective.

"Commencing approach to target."

Once again Anderson was flung against his shock frame as the dropship twisted through a tight turn. It was a far from comfortable experience, but, in a way, it was also reassuring. The danger of the initial drop was over. From here on in, the only real threat was that of enemy action and now that it had achieved horizontal flight the dropship would be able to maneuver and defend itself. Around him, the marines were checking their gear.

"On final approach."

Another violent shock, but this time Anderson actually welcomed it. He knew what it meant: The weapon bays on either side of the dropship had opened. There was no real need for it, because they were supposed to capture the objective intact, rather than painting white lines after the dropship had turned the area into a parking lot. Still, no sane pilot would approach a hostile target with his weapons locked away behind closed doors.

Anderson activated his microphone. "ETA to target?"

"Five minutes," came the response. "Are you ready to deploy?"

"Good to go."

The dropship swept through a tight turn.

"Target spotted. No sign of- FUCK!"

The Cheyenne twisted into another turn as the pilot yanked on his controls.

"Hostiles spotted! They have AAA!"

**-o-o-o-**

On the ground, a turian gunner looked through the sights of his twin-barreled gun turret. It was not a particularly good weapon for air-defense, as it lacked early warning radar, or, for that matter, the volume of fire that was typically required to guarantee hits on a fast moving target. Fortunately, these targets were not moving particularly fast, which indicated that they planned to land, rather than strafe his position. There seemed to be at least three, possibly more, coming in from different angles.

The gunner adjusted his aim, focusing his attention on the largest target, then let fly with a salvo of mass accelerator slugs.

The DR-4 Viking was a recent addition to the United Systems Military. Unlike the UD-4 series, the Vikings had been designed from the ground up to incorporate mass effect technology, rather than having it added as a supplement. Also, unlike the UD-4 series, it was modular in design. It could carry a variety of cargo modules, depending on the mission. It made for a fast, versatile, and highly maneuverable transport. However, at the same time, it lacked the ruggedness of the older design. Two mass accelerator slugs hit the Viking. One ripped off part of its right engine pod, the other tore into the cargo module, killing three marines. The pilot executed a violent maneuver, twisting out of the line of fire while simultaneously trying to bring his crippled craft down on the ground. It was the mass effect core of the Viking that saved it. As the flight computer noticed the damage, the system went into emergency mode automatically reducing the Viking's mass while simultaneously bringing it down almost vertically in a controlled crash. The impact as it hit the ground finished the job that the turian guns had started: the Viking would never fly again, but it saved the occupants as both the cockpit and the cargo module filled with crash foam to absorb the remaining momentum.

The turian gunner never knew any of this. Even as he struggled to re-acquire the target a Super-Cheyenne dropship twisted around in mid-air and a stream of 25mm tracer rounds sliced through both the gun turret and the gunner. A fraction of a second later two Mk.10 Zeus rockets slammed into his position as well, turning what was left of his corps into glowing ashes.

**-o-o-o-**

"One gun turret destroyed. No further sign of resistance, but there is bound to be more of those bird-faces around."

"What about Viking-2"

"Permanently disabled. Three casualties."

"Understood." Anderson sighed. Casualties were inevitable on a mission like this, but that didn't make it any easier. Nevertheless, considering what they were doing, losing only three marines during the landing was actually quite impressive. "Put us down. Then continue on to the rendez-vous."

"Roger that."

The Cheyenne braked sharply, hovering in mid-air. Even before its forward movement had stopped, the crash-harnesses disengaged and the entire floor dropped down, allowing the marines to exit. Within seconds the cargo bay was empty and the dropship took off again, zooming low over the ground.

"Get into cover!"

Anderson was the first to follow his own order and dropped flat on the ground in a small dip in the terrain, his eyes scanning the environment. Everywhere around him marines from his platoon spread out, searching for something to hide behind. Shots rang out, two, three. A marine stumbled and fell.

"There!" Sergeant Zim, who had dropped in the second Super-Cheyenne had spotted the snipers. Immediately, two marines swung the barrels of their M56 smart guns around and raked the area with bullets.

"Stay low! There's bound to be more of them." Anderson crept forward slowly checking around him fo any sign of movement, half expecting to feel the impact of a bullet at any moment.

"Two more, over here!" That was from the crew of the crashed Viking, who had freed themselves of the crash foam and were now deploying. Anderson could hear the familiar sounds of a rifle squad going into action. Short bursts from the Lacrimae assault rifles, occasionally drowned out by the rattling of a smart gun.

"Got them both, no further sign of trouble."

"Good. Start unloading."

Unlike the Super-Cheyennes, which had only carried the marines with their personal gear, the Vikings also carried a considerable amount of supplies, in particular, ammunition. The three undamaged transports had simply put their cargo modules on the ground and taken off again, the fourth had crashed with the module still attached. All four were prime targets for an enemy counter attack or air strike, and securing the supplies had top priority.

"Sergeant Zim, take charge of the unloading. I'll be checking out the target."

The main task of his platoon was to take control of a bridge, less than a kilometer meters of where they had landed. Unfortunately, owing to the terrain he couldn't actually see the bridge from where the platoon had landed. The presence of at least one gun emplacement and the turian soldiers proved that the aliens had also recognized its importance; there were bound to be more of them around there somewhere.

Followed by a handful of marines, Anderson climbed the crest of the hill, past the smoking ruins of the gun turret, so that he could look into the valley beyond. What he saw was not encouraging. The turians had placed a small building near the bridge, as well as another gun turret, which the pilots had somehow failed to spot. What made the situation infinitely worse, was that both were on the opposite side of the bridge. His marines would have to advance downhill, over open ground, then through the choke-point of the bridge itself, in order to engage an enemy that had already been alerted to their presence.

"What do you think, sir?" One of the marines asked. "Shall we use mortars?"

Anderson nodded. "Looks like we have to, Rutgers."

He looked over the target area again. The small, hand-held mortars that every platoon carried had enough range to reach both the building and the gun turret, but it would be stretching them to their limit. They were not the most accurate of weapons and their small warheads could only do limited damage; reducing the turian structures would take time; time they could ill afford. The grenade launchers on the Lacrimae assault rifles were more accurate, but their warheads were even smaller, and, being direct fire weapons, required the users to expose themselves to return fire.  
Suddenly, his radio activated.

"Sir, Stavich here. I was setting up our comm-gear and git a contact. "Some guy named Petrovsky. Says he's Shanxi militia and is asking if we need assistance."

Anderson hesitated. If they've been fighting other humans he would have been nearly sure that this was some kind of trap. Against aliens that seemed unlikely. Nothing they had seen of the turians so far had indicated that the aliens would be able to successfully imitate human soldiers. Still, it never hurt to be cautious.

"Alright, answer him, but be careful. Don't give any information away until we know more. And try to find out which side of the river he's on. If he's genuine, this may just solve our problems."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, turian command center**

"General Arterius, the main element of the human assault force is entering orbit."

"I see." Desolas stared at the map in front of him. The first wave of human shuttles had landed over a large area, dispersing the assault force in small packages. That was not the way a turian landing force would operate, but he understood the logic. The humans were using their vanguard to secure strategic locations, preparing the way for the main assault. It wasn't something that would work under normal circumstances unless the assault force had plenty of time to study their targets. These, however, were not normal circumstances. The humans were attacking their own planet. They knew the terrain and therefore knew exactly where to land. His own troops were reacting quickly, like the good, disciplined soldiers they were. Unfortunately, that was all they could do: reacting. As long as the humans controlled the orbits, they would be able to hold the initiative. It was not a happy thought. He was trapped on this planet, along with more than thirty thousand soldiers and nearly fifteen thousand support personnel. Somewhere out there Septimus Oraka was doing his best to change that situation, but for the moment Desolas could only rely on the weapons he had available planetside and they, unfortunately, were limited.  
It hadn't always been this way. In the old days, during the Krogan Rebellions, the Hierarchy had fielded a wide array of ground-based weaponry to supplement the fleet's ability to provide ground support. Over time that had changed. Turian planets still had massive defensive weapon emplacements, but those were primarily fixed defenses. He had a few of those with him, air-defense guns that had been stationed around the human headquarters, which he had appropriated for his own use, but the mobile, ground-based weapon platforms of old had almost completely disappeared. After all, with the strongest fleet on the galaxy to support them from orbit, what need was there for ground troops to carry their own heavy weapons? They were seen as relics, obsolete, and a waste of precious funds that were needed desperately to maintain the turian fleets and the enormous shipyards that supported them. Those that remained had been placed in reserve, and he had not thought to reactivate them for his campaign. In any case, even if he had thought of it, deploying them would have been difficult, if not outright impossible, since turian soldiers no longer trained to use them.  
But now, for the first time in centuries, a major turian ground force was trapped on a planet where the enemy held the orbitals; and all Desolas had to support his soldiers were a handful of fighters that had been detached from the fleet; his troop transport shuttles, which, while heavily armored and shielded, carried only limited weaponry; and smaller military aircars. The latter were neither well-armoured, nor heavily armed, and relied primarily on speed to stay out of trouble. The question was: what would the humans bring to the fight?  
Under the circumstances, he was not too worried about orbital bombardment. Most of his soldiers were stationed in and around the main city, and it seemed unlikely that the humans would resort to bombarding their own city. However, the humans seemed to have their own way of doing things. During the initial ground campaign they had not used air support; understandable, given the turians' complete control of the orbits. Instead, on multiple occasions his soldiers had reported the appearance of heavy, Tomkah-like vehicles, carrying weaponry that severely out-gunned his shuttles. His fighters and frigates had made short work of them, but without that option, his soldiers would be at a severe disadvantage. After the surrender, they had found the remnants of other vehicles, destroyed by the humans to prevent the from falling into turian hands. Their functions had never been determined. The human landing craft were already displaying their ability to support ground troops, launching volleys of rockets and gun-fire against turian positions. There was no telling what else they would be able to deploy.

"Have all our air-assets stand ready, but don't oppose the landing. We don't have the fighters to spare."

"General!" Another one of his aides came running toward him. "Sir, we've lost contact with the southern district headquarters. They reported being attacked by over a hundred human soldiers, then they went off the air."

That as even worse news. The district headquarters functioned as a communication hub. With it gone, his ability to control the soldiers in that area had been reduced considerably.

"Put a strike team together, as many as we can launch within the hour; then send them in with assault shuttles. We need that headquarters."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, turian district headquarters**

"Sentry guns! There, there, and over here! Hurry up, we're almost out of time."

Tadius Ahern kicked the corpse of one of the aliens aside as he moved through the wreckage of the alien command and control station. They were tough bastards. He'd lost nearly a third of his marines fighting his way into the base. That was bad. What was worse, was that he would now need to hold it with his remaining men while a team of combat engineers tried their best to hack their way into the turian database.  
They had already started. One of them was wearing a portable Virtual Reality-rig, her hands moving rapidly, manipulating objects that only she could see, while her companion was watching the proceedings on the screen of a small computer. Others were scouring the facility, removing anything and everything that wasn't nailed down. They were lost in a world of their own and it was up to Ahern and his men to see to it that they wouldn't get interrupted before they had finished their job.

"Captain! We have hostiles on the way."

_No surprises there. They must know that we aren't here by accident_. One of the frigates that had remained in Shanxi space had noticed the high amount of message traffic that passed through this location and marked it for further investigation. The original suspicions turned out to be correct. The local computer systems held a wealth of data. It also meant that the base had been heavily defended, which accounted for Ahern's losses, and that the turians would do anything to regain control of it.

"Status on the sentry guns?"

"All set up, sir. As long as we have ammo, they'll keep firing."

_As long as we have ammo. _Ahern snorted. _That's inexperience for you!_ They had plenty of ammunition on hand, that was not the issue. The main concern was how to get it into the sentry guns while keeping his marines alive. That was a fundamental problem with the UA 571-C sentry gun. Basically, it was a standard smart gun, set on top of a small tripod mount and hooked up to an automated targeting system. It would fire on anything that moved within its firing arc unless the target carried an IFF transponder. Great in theory, but in practice, it came with a massive downside. The original M56 smart gun was designed to be operated by a single soldier, using a body harness and counter weights. It carried only limited ammunition to keep the total weight down. That characteristic carried over onto the sentry gun. This, combined with the targeting computer's tendency toward overkill, meant they ran out of ammunition quickly; ammunition that had to be resupplied by hand by a soldier standing out in the open next to the gun mount. In sustained combat that negated a lot of the potential of the automated weapons.

With a last look around the compound, Ahern dropped on one knee behind a cargo crate, just in time to see the first turian soldier coming over the wall.

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, near the bridge**

"Everyone ready?"

"Yes sir! Petrovsky is standing by."

Anderson nodded. "Good." They hadn't had much time to set things up, but Petrovsky's presence in the area had been a God-sent relief. As Anderson had hoped the handful of Shanxi militia-men were on the other side of the river. Now they stood ready to attack the moment Anderson's marines took the field.

"On my mark... FIRE!"

Two small mortar bombs sailed through the air, arching over the hilltop that hid the launchers from the turian position. They would miss, of course, for the mortars were hardly precision weapons, and the marines stood by to adjust their aim and reload. The moment the bombs left their launchers, marines on the ridgeline jumped up and fire a volley of 25 mm grenades from their assault rifles into the turian building. These would not miss, despite the distance, for the Lacrimae's rifled grenade launcher provided excellent accuracy.

The turian soldiers were no fools. Whether they were familiar with small mortars was unknown, but they certainly understood explosions. Even before the marines could fire a second salvo, the turians came running out of the building, which was too flimsy to provide adequate cover, and spread out along the terrain, seeking solid cover wherever they could find it. On the hilltop, the gun-turret swiveled around, its twin barreled mass-accelerator seeking targets.

Several hundred meters away, on the reverse slope behind the turret, lieutenant Petrovsky stared intently through his binoculars. He and his soldiers had slowly crept forward, edging as close as they could to the turian position. Then they had waited until the first explosion. The moment the turret turned Petrovsky gave a signal. Eleven soldiers raised their rifles. The range was long for the old M41 Pulse rifles that the Shanxi militia still used and none of his soldiers had sniper training. In the end, it mattered very little. The rear of the turret lacked even the most elementary protection. Most of the initial shots missed, but one or two hit the gunner in the back. The turian reacted quickly, trying to bring the turret back around so he could hide behind its armored gunshield, but it was too late. More bullets hit him as the militiamen adjusted their aim and he collapsed. Another soldier came running up, trying to take his place, but by now Petrovsky's people were moving up the hill, firing as they ran and he never made it. In the distance, Petrovsky could hear the sharper, higher sound of Lacrimae assault rifles as the marines set in their attack from the other side. He smiled. Time to finish this.

* * *

**Shanxi, high orbit**

"First wave is reporting, sir. Most of their targets have either been secured or are being contested as we speak. Losses are heavy but within the expected margin. Resistance is mainly on the ground, no real attempt at contesting the air."

"Good." General Perez checked his side-arm one last time. He wasn't expecting to meet any of the aliens up-close, at least not until they had either died, or surrendered, or both. Still, it was always good to be prepared. "Then we are ready to proceed. Ladies and gentlemen, when next we speak, it'll be on Shanxi."

The general turned around and started jogging toward his personal dropship. Behind him, his staff dispersed to the waiting shuttles.

**-o-o-o-**

High above the planet, five auxiliary carriers opened their launching bay doors. They had never been popular vessels, either with the navy that operated them, or the politicians that had to secure their funding. Slightly over half a kilometer in length, but bulky compared to most warships, they lacked the fast moving, hard hitting glamor of destroyers, without attaining the impressive size of the fleet carriers. Perhaps even worse, they didn't have a clearly defined task. Instead, they served as back-up for everybody else: jack of all trades, master of none. As a result, they tended to be everybody's first choice when it came to budget cuts. Still, they were very useful ships, mainly due to their flexibility. They could be kitted out as normal carriers to provide fighter support in situations that didn't warrant a full-sized fleet carrier, or, alternatively, they could be stuffed with shuttles and dropships to provide the spearhead of a marine assault operation.  
With only a single launching deck, rather than the two of a fleet-carrier, and lacking the dedicated launch bays of the RDVs, the auxiliaries were relatively slow when it came to deploying their assault loads, but they could carry a lot of shuttles, and, unlike the RDVs, their launch decks were large enough to use full-sized cargo shuttles that would be needed to carry the marines' armored units to the planet. It took nearly half an hour, from start to finish, but by then Shanxi orbit was swarming with shuttles, carrying a full brigade-group of marines down to the planet. Further away the first of the massive cargo ships was decelerating into high orbit. There they would wait until the landing area had been secured to send down the main body of the invasion force.

* * *

**The Viking is borrowed from Starship Troopers (the movie). The Cheyenne was the dropship from Aliens. I see the Super Cheyenne as being the latest incarnation, incorporating some mass effect tech for enhanced performance, but still basically the same vehicle  
**

**In canon, Petrovski was a corporal. I promoted him a bit. The ME writers seem to have a somewhat strange idea about military ranks. They casually promote NCOs to officer as though this is normal practice. In reality, while an NCO may be brevetted to officer rank under special circumstances, they'll still have to attend officer training afterwards if they want to continue rising in the ranks, especially in peace-time. Of course this may be different in a future military, but nothing about the Alien universe, which is the basis for my version of humanity, indicates that such a change has taken place. Under normal circumstances, the idea that Petrovski would make it from corporal to general in about twenty years is rather unlikely. Anderson, who was already a lieutenant, was only a captain after the same amount of time.  
**

**For the turian lack of heavy weapons I'm using the US Army in the period 1945-1950 as an example. They were so convinced that all future wars would be decided by airdropped nukes that they neglected their conventional equipment. When the war in Korea broke out, they found themselves using rifles to try to stop tanks. Not a happy experience! Here the turians have not fought a real war for 1500 years. Ever since the Krogan rebellions, they have relied on their fleet to win the war. Ground troops are just supposed to mop up what's left. Of course, one would expect them to learn from this experience, but that will take time.**


	27. Divine wind through Shanxi space

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Missiles inbound!"

Oraka studied his tactical display. His ships were steadily closing with the human carriers. The humans had seen them coming and were trying to open the distance, but position, base velocity, and acceleration curves were all working against them. It would take some time, but, eventually, even his dreadnoughts would be able to engage them. If they survived that long. The smaller human warships were doing what they could to destroy his ships before that happened and, behind them, their fighter squadrons were scrambling for yet another strike.

Unlike earlier engagements, the humans had not deployed their heavy ship-to-ship missiles at long range. Instead, they had left the long distance fight to their fighters and held their fire until they were within mass-driver range. Now, with the range steadily decreasing they launched their entire missile arsenal in a single massive volley. The behavior of the missiles themselves was different as well. Rather than closing on a ballistic trajectory, with their drives shut down to avoid detection, the missiles were accelerating rapidly closing as quickly as possible. It made them easy to spot, but the high closing speed was playing havoc with the targeting solutions.

Fourteen ships had launched eight missiles each, all of them aimed at the three turian dreadnoughts, which made for nearly forty missiles per target.  
Powerful jammers activated, filling space with electronic noise in the hope of distracting the missiles' targeting systems. The remaining turian frigates scrambles, and interposed themselves between the missiles and their targets, only to come under fire from the human cruisers that were steadily advancing behind their missiles. Turian cruisers accelerated forward, leaving the dreadnoughts behind to join the frigates and lend their superior firepower to the battle. Within moments the space between the two formations was riddled with mass accelerator slugs as both sides went to rapid fire.

One human ship fell out of formation, its engines stuttering in vain as they tried to maintain their acceleration. A second ship shuddered under repeated hits but managed to stay on course and their return fire was beginning to take its toll, destroying one frigate, then a second; a turian cruiser spun away, bleeding atmosphere out of its ruptured hull. A human warship, struck by a hail of mass accelerator slugs simply broke apart under the repeated impacts.

The missiles, still accelerating as fast as they could, entered the point defense range and laser fire from two dozen ships swept over them. Some of the missiles veered off course, confused by jammers, or distracted by alternative targets. Others exploded or simply went dead as the GARDIAN lasers sliced through them. The remaining missiles stayed on course, their onboard jammers dueling with the turian fire control systems while their targeting computers tried to maintain a lock on what they thought were their designated targets.  
More died as the turian gunners concentrated their fire on the steadily dwindling number of incoming missiles. Still, no matter how skilled they were, they could not get them all and twenty-four missiles broke through everything the turians could throw at them and detonated near their targets.

A turian cruiser, already damaged by fighter strikes and mass accelerator slugs, exploded as its eezo core containment was breached. Two more took damage as the exploding warheads stripped away their barriers. HNV Guiding Spirit, the lead dreadnought took at least four successive hits, completely stripping the kinetic barriers on one side and burning out several sensors. This, in turn, left her open to mass accelerator strikes from the human warships that were coming into range and shifted their fire away from the smaller turian vessels to concentrate on the dreadnoughts.

Force of Justice took only two hits, which failed to penetrate the barriers; but Righteous Fury, already damaged in the earlier battles, took three hits, which opened up her hull in two locations.

"General, fighter strike inbound."

With a curt nod, Oraka tore his eyes away from the damage reports. A new swarm of human fighters was coming into range, clearly intent on exploiting the openings created by the missile strike. Oraka no longer had any fighters left to counter them, so point defense, already stretched and steadily decreasing in strength as lasers and sensors were destroyed, would have to deal with them. Still, with each strike they were reducing the number of fighters as well and the human formations, clearly thrown together in a hurry, were becoming increasingly haphazard. His fleet would take losses, that was inevitable, but it wouldn't stop him from catching the carriers and when that happened...

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

USM Ark Royal was in trouble. Not since the naval battle off Samar, long before mankind had moved into space, had a carrier of any type been subjected to direct attack by other warships. Now it seemed as though that particular run of good luck was about to come to an end. Ark Royal and the three other carriers that made up second fleet's primary offensive power were running away as fast as they could, but it wasn't enough. The turians had given up on the cohesion of their formation. Nor did they seem interested in going for a zero relative velocity intercept. Instead they were accelerating as fast as they could, the smaller ships pulling ahead of the dreadnoughts in an attempt to execute the greatest drive-by shooting in recorded history. The carriers were moving away at a sharp angle, but the vectors simply didn't work out. They were going to be caught, and while the encounter might be short as the turians would be unable to decelerate and match speed, it would be ugly.

"Four fighters ready, activate lifts!"

In the hangars, maintenance crews were operating at break-neck speed, cycling the returning fighters as quickly as possible. By now they were no longer launching standardized strike packages or even cohesive squadrons. Instead, each fighter was refueled and rearmed as quickly as possible, the pilots never leaving the cockpit.

"Get them out of here!"

Beneath four fighters the deck gave way as the elevators carried them down. One deck lower, they were caught by winches that moved them forward, to be attached to a single, massive bar that ran nearly the full width of the ship. This was the part that the pilots hated most. They had effectively become passengers aboard their own fighters, which in turn had become packages on an assembly line. As soon as the last fighter was attached, the bar moved outward, carrying the fighters from the main hull of the carrier to the flight-deck pod mounted to the side of the hull.  
These pods served multiple purposes. When the carrier was not in action, they could be pressurized, creating a large work area where the maintenance crews could work more comfortably than in the hangars. When the carrier was in the process of launching or recovering fighters, they were open to vacuum.  
Originally, both launch and recovery had been done from inside the pod. Fighters were carried from the hangar into the pod, then accelerated forward under their own power. For a recovery, the fighter would approach the carrier from the side to stay outside the back-wash of the carrier's thrusters, then maneuver behind the pod and fly into it, where it would be caught by the recovery system and dragged into the hangars. It was a simple system, and still in use on the auxiliary carriers. For that matter, the fleet carriers could operate that way as well. The big advantage lay in the fact that the size of the fighters or shuttles that were being launched didn't matter, as long as they could fit through the doors that separated the flight-deck from the hangar. Unfortunately, there were two downsides. For one thing, it limited the number of fighters that could be launched at any given time, since they had to be kept well separated during launch. Also, it became extremely difficult to conduct both launch and recovery operations at the same time. Next to being caught by warships at close range, the greatest fear of any carrier commander was to be surprised by enemy fighters while unable to launch his own strike. The lessons from Midway, where admiral Nagumo's carriers had been unable to launch their air strike because their flight-decks were occupied launching and recovering the combat air patrol, had been drummed into every carrier officer **(1)**. In practice, carrier commanders would quite often use one pod for launch and one for recovery. Of course, this would further reduce the number of fighters that could be launched at once.  
A solution had been devised and implemented in the latest generation of fleet carriers. The fighters were carried on long beams to a position directly below the flight-deck. There they waited, locked in position, until massive doors beneath each fighter slid open. A short burst of the maneuvering thrusters and the fighters emerged from underneath pod. They had never entered the flight deck, so recovery operations could continue uninterrupted. It allowed carriers like Ark Royal to cycle their fighters much faster than earlier designs. The downside of the system, other than that it could only be applied to fighters and small shuttles due to size restrictions, was that it was complicated, and therefore prone to break-downs. Out of the twelve launch beams (six per pod) one had broken down completely, and another was being nursed along by cursing technicians, who were risking life and limb as they worked on various small problems while the launcher operated.

"Admiral," lieutenant Hackett reported. "Enemy warships are entering extreme engagement range."

"I can see that, lieutenant." Drescher snarled as she looked at the screen. She had bled the enemy force and made them pay dearly as they charged straight into second fleet's concentrated firepower. Only three of their frigates and eleven of their destroyer-equivalents remained in action, as well as the three dreadnoughts, but the price had been high. Of the fourteen destroyers that Second Fleet had entered the battle with, one had been destroyed completely and three more were effectively out of the battle. A fifth, USM Tegethoff was still keeping up with the others but had taken so much damage that she now lacked sufficient firepower to contribute to the battle. The remaining destroyers, assisted by the frigates, were still in action, pouring fire into the turian formation; admiral Grissom's rapid deployment vessels, which had sling-shotted around the planet were racing toward them; but it was not enough. They simply couldn't do sufficient damage quickly enough to keep the enemy from engaging her carriers. That should have been the job of her fighter squadrons, but they too lacked the firepower. By now they had shot off all their nuclear-tipped missiles and were reduced to throwing conventional warheads and gunfire at the enemy ships. They were doing damage, but, again, just not quickly enough, and her pilots were becoming desperate. At least one, and quite possibly more, had chosen to take it one step further and rammed a turian warship, but still the enemy kept closing in.

Now the narrow beams of their targeting sensors were sweeping over the carriers and the first shots were coming in. Fleet carriers were tough, the best protected mobile platforms humanity had ever built, but whether they could stand up to this remained an open question. It had never been tested before. Admiral Drescher had no doubts that second fleet could still fulfill it's primary task. No matter what the enemy commander might think, by the time the battle was over, he would no longer be able to stop the invasion. The question remained: what would be left of Second Fleet by that time? Humanity could ill afford a Pyrrhic victory.

"Incoming fire!"

A handful of mass accelerator slugs fired by the smaller turian warships passed through her formation and Ark Royal shuddered briefly as one of them tore into her shields.

"No damage so far."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Multiple hits on primary targets!"

Oraka's eyes were fixed on his displays as the first rounds reached the human carriers. As expected they appeared to be heavily armoured. Even the rounds that managed to get through the kinetic barriers seemed to bounce off harmlessly, or at most dislodge some armour plating. Still, each hit was reducing that armour. By now all his cruisers were firing their main batteries at the carriers, even as their flank mounted secondaries kept the pressure on the other human warships that were closing the distance as quickly as they could in an attempt to break up the turian attack. Of course, this meant that now the human warships had the advantage in firepower because they could use their forward firing batteries, but that was a risk he had to take. No matter what happened, he HAD to take the carriers out.

Minutes went by, another wave of fighters broke over his ships, but the damage was limited. By now their efforts seemed increasingly desperate. A cruiser went dark, systems shutting down as human accelerator fire tore into its hull.

"Engaging NOW!"

The three dreadnoughts fired as one, all concentrating on a single target.

"Hit!"

Another salvo went out

"We've got them!"

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

Ark Royal's trouble had just begun. By design, or accident, she had been the main focus of the turian warships. Repeated hits from the smaller ships had stripped away her shields and most of the ablative armour on one side. The carrier was rotating in an attempt to interpose her other side, but it would take time, time which had just run out. The concentrated fire of three dreadnoughts ripped through her unprotected hull, tearing deep into the ship's innards.

In the command center, chaos erupted as a projectile slammed through the compartments nearby, tearing through the bulkheads. Internal blast doors closed at once, preventing decompression, but the damage was already done. The main tactical display was torn off its mounting and careened through the compartment, crushing two of its operators and dislodging more equipment turning the room into a slaughterhouse.

Admiral Drescher, spared injury by some miracle could only stare open mouthed at the sheer scale of destruction that tore her command center apart and killed or injured most of her staff, including lieutenant Hackett who was down on the ground, blood gushing from a head wound. Still, Ark Royal's designers had taken this possibility into account and backups spun up, powering the few remaining systems and redistributing the vital data over the handful of remaining screens.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Again! Hit them again!" In the excitement of the moment captain Hastian probably didn't even notice that he was shouting utterly unnecessary orders. They had been lucky, scoring multiple hits on one of the carriers that seemed to have penetrated deeply into the ship. A few more hits and it would be out of action, if not destroyed, and they could switch fire to the next target, which the cruisers were already engaging.

"Captain! Left flank!"

A shout, nearly a scream actually, from one of the sensor techs interrupted the moment of triumph and both Hastian and Oraka whipped around to determine what had happened. Then, for a second both froze.

The remaining human warships had closed the distance, ignoring the turian cruisers to focus exclusively on the dreadnoughts. Righteous Fury, the second in line was taking the brunt of it. By now she was completely stripped of hers barriers, the hull was breached in multiple locations, and at least one of the engines was out. However, that was not what had caused the sensor tech's outburst. As both officers looked on in horror, one of the human warships suddenly accelerated away from the others, clearly no longer interested in matching course and speed to prolong the engagement time, the vessel, or rather the wreck that was left of it, was moving as fast as possible on a crossing intercept with Guiding Spirit. Not a firing pass, an exact intercept.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

"Admiral, look! Tegetthoff!"

How the destroyer was still in action was impossible to tell. On the side facing Ark Royal her armor had been stripped away and her hull breached; many compartments were clearly open to space. Yet, her engines had been spared and, as admiral Drescher and her remaining staff watched with horrified fascination, the maimed warship accelerated. Her velocity increased at a terrifying rate exceeding all safety regulations, but it was clear that she was not completely out of control. Someone was still at the helm, correcting course and speed to follow a trajectory that would intersect with the advancing turian dreadnoughts. A turian frigate, itself heavily damaged but understanding the danger, twisted sharply, trying to intercept the destroyer, only to be blown apart by a squadron of F-302s that had rushed to Tegetthoffs side. One of the turian dreadnoughts managed to turn on its axis to bring its main batteries to bear and fired a salvo of relativistic projectiles into her flank.  
Two of Tegetthoffs engines flared sharply, then died, sending her spinning, but whoever was at the helm fired the maneuvering thrusters and through luck or skill managed to stay on course.

"Do we have communications?"

"No ma'am." Hackett, half his face covered in blood, had managed to drag himself to a working terminal. "Tegetthoffs comms are off-line. Besides..."

Admiral Drescher nodded. There was no way to stop the tragedy that was unfolding before her. With a conscious effort of willpower she made herself watch as the destroyer rushed onward. She tried to remember Tegetthoff's commanding officer, a man she had barely known, who had only recently arrived to take command as the destroyer was brought out of reserve. Was it him commanding the dying vessel? Or was he dead in the wreck of his ship and had some junior officer taken over control? No-one would ever know.  
Her remaining engines were still burning, accelerating the ship at ever greater speed as she closed with the turian formation. Secondary batteries lashed out from the dreadnoughts, ripping new wounds into her hull. There was no answering fire from Tegetthoff, only a last burst from her thrusters, correcting her course to send her at full speed into the leading dreadnought.

Both ships vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

Before commanding officers on either side could fully grasp what happened the remaining destroyers resumed firing. By now the two remaining dreadnoughts were alarmingly close, but both had been distracted by Tegetthoff's last minute dash and the few seconds it took them to reacquire their targets proved fatal. Concentrated fire from the seven destroyers that could still operate their main batteries tore into one of the ships, which had started the battle already damaged. Then the destroyers veered off, presenting their broadsides as they passed through the turian formation. The broadside weapons lacked the muzzle velocity of the main batteries, but by now it mattered little as the dreadnought had been stripped of its armour.

Sensors showed the eezo core fluctuating rapidly and for a moment it looked like there would be another explosion, but safety systems activated just in time and, with a whimper, rather than a bang, the ship simply shut down.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"General."

It took a moment for Oraka to realize that the captain was speaking to him as he stared at the empty space where Guiding Spirit had met its end and where Righteous Fury was now drifting helplessly

"General!"

With extreme effort he managed to collect himself.

"Yes, captain?"

"Sir, we've picked up a signal from our troop transports. They are under attack by enemy frigates"

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Dagger**

USM Dagger's engines flared and the small ship turned on its axis, leaving the wreck of a turian transport behind.

Commander Farnsworh smiled happily as she studied the plot and selected her next target._ So many targets, so little time._ _Still, better that than the alternative._ Dagger and the other frigates that had stayed in Shanxi space after the destruction of admiral van Buren's squadron had had a frustrating war so far, but this more than made up for it. With the turian warships fully engaged by second fleet and their transports clustered together near the local gas giant, the opportunity for some long-delayed payback had been too good to pass up. Now the frigates were tearing through the turian transports, which were desperately trying to scatter.

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"General, what do we do?"

Oraka stared at the tactical plot. Two of his dreadnoughts were gone; his cruisers had passed the human carriers and would need time to get back into range. Meanwhile, the remaining human warships were turning around, their lower relative speed allowing them to stay closer to the turian fleet. Human fighters were forming up for another strike and the warships that had accompanied their invasion force were entering firing range, and their carriers seemed to have recovered, rotating to present undamaged flanks to his fire. In theory, he could still kill the one that he had previously damaged, but it would probably cost him the rest of his fleet, and it would make no difference whatsoever to the outcome of the battle.

"Tell the transports to scatter and depart the system if they can. Any that cannot leave must surrender rather than fight. Signal the fleet. We'll form up in a defensive formation and accelerate to FTL speed."

For a moment captain Hastian looked dumbfounded.

"General... We cannot..."

"Yes, we can. Look at the plot, captain. It's over. This battle is already lost. I'm not going to throw away good turian lives in a useless attempt to change what cannot be changed."

He sighed. "Now do as I order. And get me a link to general Arterius. I will explain the situation to him personally."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Ark Royal**

"They're turning away."

Admiral Drescher nodded. "Sensible of them. Signal all ships. Keep an eye on the enemy fleet, but don't pursue. Then start recovery operations."

* * *

**(1) This is the interpretation from 'Shattered Sword' by Parshall and Tully. They argue, based on the photographs taken by American airplanes, that the Japanese carriers had not even brought their strike planes out of the hangars, contrary to earlier accounts that stated that they were caught with the planes parked on the decks. According to their estimate, there wouldn't have been time. Repeated air attacks by carrier launched torpedo bombers as well as the planes from Midway had forced them to keep rearming the combat air patrol, so the flight decks were busy all the time. The obvious solution, using some carriers for combat air patrol and others for the strike, ran contrary to Japanese doctrine, which emphasized the need to launch as many airplanes as possible as one strike group.**

**A reviewer suggested that admiral van Buren should perish in this kind of ramming maneuver. I considered it, but deliberately let van Buren die a rather pointless death. Still, it makes for a powerful scene, so I kept it in mind. I wanted to show something of great importance happening to a ship without a main character on board. For history buffs, yes, I used the name of admiral Tegetthoff on purpose for a ship that rammed an opponent.**


	28. Forwards the light brigade

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**USM Yamato, Shanxi space**

Admiral Drescher looked around her new command centre. It was more cramped than her previous one, Yamato being a slightly older design than Ark Royal. However, it would have to do. Ark Royal was simply too heavily damaged to remain in action. As soon as the turian fleet had started to retreat she had transferred her flag to Yamato and sent Ark Royal on her way back to Arcturus for emergency repairs. And Ark Royal wouldn't be alone. Out of second fleet's fourteen destroyers only six were still in a condition to continue fighting. Three had been destroyed completely and five more were too badly damaged. They too would retreat to Arcturus. The frigates had fared slightly better, having lost five of their number, but gaining the three that been waiting for them in Shanxi. Still, many of the survivors were damaged to a certain extent and they too would need repairs. Already, specialized maintenance and supply vessels were on their way from Arcturus to take care of any ship that didn't require docking facilities.  
The related butcher's bill was equally bad. Admiral Pressly was dead, the second destroyer admiral to die in this war. With him, nearly fifteen hundred people had been killed, with an equally long list of wounded who would need months to recover, if they ever did.  
The good news was that, other than Ark Royal, second fleet's carriers had escaped major damage and were still operational. Their fighter wings had taken a beating, but they could be replenished from Arcturus.

Meanwhile, the remnants of the alien fleet had accelerated to FTL speed and left the system. Having lost approximately two-thirds of their strength they were unlikely to pose a threat anytime soon.

"Send a message through the relay," Drescher ordered. "I want Graf Spee and her escorts to make the jump as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then set a course for Shanxi. General Perez will need air cover."

* * *

**Shanxi, turian command centre  
**

The initial strike to retake the lost district headquarters had failed. They had made it inside the compound, but in the end, the turians had failed to dislodge the human defenders. Unfortunately, there would not be an opportunity to try again. Even before the shuttles had returned, the main human assault had started, landing several thousands of soldiers with their supporting equipment in a forested area a few kilometres outside the city. From now on, that would be the primary target.

Turians believed in overwhelming force. It was a crucial element of every aspect of turian strategic thinking: When fighting, you should always go all-out, or you shouldn't fight at all. This time though, going all-out produced a result that was distinctly underwhelming. There simply wasn't enough equipment to produce the kind of numbers needed, nor the facilities to support that kind of force. The invasion force had, from the beginning, relied on logistic support from the transports in orbit to maintain and repair their shuttlecraft. Now those transports were gone and the limited facilities that had been constructed planetside were simply insufficient to handle the kind of numbers that would have been required for an effective counter attack.

Still, Desolas had been able to scrape up over a hundred troop transports with an additional twenty-three smaller aircars a support. Between them they would be able to deliver over two thousand soldiers; always provided that they managed to reach the target location. They would be outnumbered, but the humans were still in the process of landing. if the turian counter attack hit the humans before they established a defensive perimeter they could still be defeated, which might cause them to delay further attacks. It was not an optimal solution, but right now it seemed the best option available, especially since the news from the space battle was far from good.

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, advanced landing zone**

"General, we have incoming"

Perez looked at the display. A sizeable air group was en route to his landing site.

"How is our air defense?"

"Six vehicles operational, sir."

"Hmm. How many Cheyennes do we have available?"

"Two full squadrons standing by, sir."

"Then send them in. Let's see what these things are made off. And contact admiral Drescher. We're going to need her fighters, ASAP."

**-o-o-o-**

The turian strike force was less than ten minutes away from their target, maintaining a reasonable altitude to avoid the possibility of ground collision. High above them, a small force of fighters, the only ones could be spared from the fleet, were providing some limited air cover. The pilots had their scanners turned on. There simply was no point in trying to hide a force this size. Still, they were taken by surprise for the simple reason that they were looking in the wrong direction. Expecting an air threat, if any to appear from above, most likely from fighters launched from the humans ships orbiting overhead, they didn't see the twenty-four super Cheyennes, until it was too late.

Twenty-four UD-4Ys, hugging the ground as closely as possible to blend in the radar background, and with all active emissions shut down, suddenly shot upward, guns blazing as they punched through the turian formation. They had relied on directions from the orbiting vessels to set the optimal intercept course.

The result was utter chaos, with turian assault shuttles scattering in all directions as they tried to avoid the attack. Two shuttles too close together and with their pilots distracted slammed into one another and exploded. Seven more were taken down by fire from the dropships. The Cheyennes continued upward until they were well above the turian formation, then scattered as the pilots, now operating as individuals, sought out their targets.

Truth be told, neither the assault shuttles nor the Super-Cheyennes were optimized for dogfighting. However, the Cheyennes packed an impressive arsenal, whereas the turian assault shuttles only had door mounted guns, which could not be operated effectively at high speed. The smaller aircars did have forward firing guns, but they lacked armour and were still hopelessly outgunned. Cheyenne pilots, who had never dreamed of encountering such an opportunity in their entire careers, dove down on their targets, gatling guns blazing, while the shuttles raced ahead, staying as low to the ground as possible while dodging gunfire and missiles.

The confusion became complete when the handful of turian fighters entered the battle. By far the best dogfighters of any of the vehicles involved they should have had en easy time of it. However, the Cheyennes, with their powerful engines and excellent low-speed manoeuvrability, proved to be more difficult targets than expected, and they could absorb a lot of punishment. One turian pilot, eager to secure a kill, was taken by surprise when the dropship in his sights suddenly braked, nearly stopping in mid-air, causing him to overshoot. He never learned from his mistake as the Cheyenne blew him apart with gunfire.  
Still, the Cheyenne pilots could recognize a losing game as well as anyone and scattered, hugging the ground, satisfied to have destroyed a score of enemy assault craft, as well as a single fighter, at the expense of only three of their own. There were too many of them for the fighters to pursue and the turians needed to stay close their assault shuttles in any case.

**-o-o-o-**

It took the turian pilots several minutes to form up again, having lost nearly twenty percent of their original strength. As they continued their approach, a radar beam swept over one of the assault shuttles.

The turian pilot had noticed the radar that had swept over his shuttle. However, once it disappeared from the scope, he relaxed as no targeting sensor had locked on. Unfortunately for him, that was not entirely true.

At the edge of the tree-line a Grizzly ADV **(1)** had picked up the warning from orbiting ships that the turian assault force was en route and its crew had briefly activated their own search radar, but only for a single sweep. The Grizzly was well-hidden, covered by the trees as well as an extensive camouflage net, and they had no interest in broadcasting their position prematurely. Fortunately, there was no need. With the location of the approaching turians established they switched to their optical back-up systems, which allowed for a purely passive target acquisition.

The Grizzly's turret turned slightly, allowing the sensors to follow the target. To the sides the combined gun/missile pods elevated.

"Missile seekers activated... Target acquired."

"Stand-by!"

The vehicle commander studied his tactical plot. All around the landing zone other vehicles, similar to his own were searching for targets, their data-links ensuring that they would not accidentally engage each other's targets and waste their first shot.

"Engage!"

The gunner slammed his foot down on the firing pedal; two missiles roared off the launching rails, accelerating away from the vehicle in a brief burst of fire and smoke.

**-o-o-o-**

Surprise was complete. Unused to dealing with vehicle mounted heavy weapons and lulled into a false sense of security by the lack of active targeting scanners the turian pilots needed precious seconds to decide on countermeasures; seconds they no longer had.

Three shuttles were torn apart by multiple missile strikes. A fourth spun out of control, half its thrusters torn off, and exploded as it hit the ground. Two others were damaged but remained airborne.

With their location revealed the Grizzlies no longer had any need to conceal themselves. Their search radars swept the sky, looking for new targets, of which there were plenty.

More missiles streaked through the sky and more assault shuttles went down, but now the turians were too close and the Grizzlies had to switch to their gatling guns. Tracer rounds reached out in short bursts as the fire-control systems tried to predict the movements of the desperate turian pilots who were executing wild manoeuvres in an effort to avoid the incoming fire.  
Some simply slammed their shuttles into the ground, sacrificing their vehicles in an effort to save the lives of the soldiers on board. Others threw open the hatches to allow the crew to shoot back with door-mounted guns.  
The latter was somewhat effective and one of the Grizzlies was torn open by mass accelerator slugs, but the door-mounted guns could only be effective at low speed, which made the shuttles an easy target for the air defence vehicles.  
Still, there were simply too many shuttles and the Grizzlies were forced to roll back into cover, using trees or buildings to shield themselves. With the ground-to-air fire falling silent the remaining shuttle craft landed and disembarked their soldiers.

By now the turian formation was hopelessly tangled up with individual squads landing wherever their shuttles had found a landing spot. The loss of unit cohesion was in itself not disastrous, for turian units were designed and trained to be interchangeable within larger formations. Still, of the two regiments that had embarked more than a quarter had been lost, including many officers, and the remainder needed time to re-establish a chain of command. Once again, time was not on their side, nor was the balance of firepower. With the turian fighters still circling overhead, the Cheyennes were staying out of the battle, but the turians were in no shape to provide air-to-ground support. Their assault shuttles had proven to be too vulnerable to air defences and the fighters lacked the necessary numbers. Normally heavier frigates would have entered the atmosphere to provide the necessary firepower, but none were available. That left the battle to the ground forces and the turian soldiers quickly found out just how outgunned they were. Human marines, dug in along the tree lines, opened fire with assault rifles and smartguns into prearranged killing grounds, recklessly spending ammunition in order to smash the turian counter attack before it could fully materialize, but, even more importantly, to simply pin the turians down.

More than five kilometres behind the frontline, other vehicles, also derivatives of the Grizzly APC, had been dug in, waiting silently until the turians had completed their landing. Now they trained their barrels upward and opened fire.  
Time-on-target was an old concept, dating back to the second great war back on old earth. At the time it had required the careful coordination of a whole artillery battery to ensure that a whole salvo arrived at the same time. Modern fire control made it easier and automatic loading systems made it possible for a single vehicle to fire a series of rounds that, due to changes in firing arc all arrived at the same time.  
The result was utter devastation. A battery of eight mortar carriers, at least half of which had been christened 'Bert the Avenger' by their crews for reasons that had been lost in time, each unleashed half a dozen rounds in rapid succession. This meant that forty-eight mortar bombs landed at the same time within an area that was barely one hundred by one hundred meters. The turians troops in that area, who had had no chance to dig themselves in, as well as two shuttles that had landed there, simply ceased to exist.  
The vehicles turned, adjusted their aim to a new location and fired again; and again.

After three salvos the Grizzly mortar carriers had shot themselves empty and rolled back, both to reload and to avoid possible counter battery fire. For the latter, they could have saved themselves the trouble. The turians had nothing in their arsenal that could have countered them effectively, except for air support, which they were in no position to supply. The fighter pilots, circling overhead and watching the slaughter were practically begging their controllers to allow them to go in. They did get permission, but the result was less than impressive. The fast moving fighters were not designed for close air support and had trouble finding targets, especially with human and turian soldiers so close together on the ground. Also, the Grizzly ADVs had relocated and the turian fighters were diving straight into their fire.

Two fighters were plucked from the sky before they could open fire. A third was damaged and had to break off, but the rest continued their attack. Their fire took out a mortar carrier, which had been too slow to move, and killed perhaps a score of humans, but the marines, trained to operate under such conditions had dispersed themselves well and were difficult targets. What was needed was a vehicle like the Super-Cheyenne, which could hover over the battlefield at treetop level to look for targets. The turian arsenal simply didn't include such craft other than navy frigates, which were by now far away.  
As the turian fighters pulled up from their strafing runs another was blotted from the sky. Then the ADVs seized fire as friendly aircraft were moving in. The Super-Cheyennes had been waiting for an opportunity. Now, with the turian numbers reduced, and the fighters close to the ground where their manoeuverability would be limited, they re-entered the battle. Individually the dropships were still outmatched, but now they could engage the fighters two-on-one or three-on-one in an environment for which they were far better suited than their opponents. Two more of the dropships were brought down, but the turians lost another three fighters. That was enough for ground control to pull them out. By now there were only four intact fighters left, and they broke away, using their superior speed to get clear of the battle.  
Of course, that left the human dropships with complete air-superiority over the battlefield and they used it with abandon, emptying their missile-racks at the parked assault shuttles and tearing up the surrounding terrain with their guns. The handful of surviving air-cars took off in a commendable attempt to engage them, but it was a doomed effort.

Turian soldiers on the ground, those that were still capable of resistance tried their best to fight back using assault rifles and rocket launchers against the circling dropships, but the former lacked the firepower and the latter were unguided projectiles that were never designed to target airborne targets. There were hits, of course, and one dropship exploded in mid-air as a rocket slammed into one of its engines. Two more had to withdraw with moderate damage, but it didn't matter for the outcome. By the time the last dropship departed, its ammunition load fully expended, the turian assault had been broken. Human marines, moving cautiously from their firing positions only found a handful of shellshocked survivors.

In his command vehicle, parked in the forest behind the front line, general Perez looked at the images that were being transmitted by a handful of observation drones and shook his head.

"They fight bravely; you have to give them that, but this isn't war. I don't know what kind of opposition they're used to, but these aliens don't have the first idea of what they're dealing with." He shrugged. "Well, so much the better for us. Are the new combat drones ready for deployment?"

One of his aids looked at a status panel. "Yes sir, the control vehicle is set up and they're ready to go."

"Good, get them over the city. Then start landing the rest of our troops. I don't think these aliens will try to interfere with the landing again."

* * *

**HNV Force of Justice, en route to Relay 288**

Septimus Oraka studied the glass in hand. It wasn't really the best moment to indulge in Horosk, but then again, it was not as though he had anything better to do. The crew was hard at work making emergency repairs. They didn't need the general looking over their shoulders. His personal sidearm was lying on the desk in front of him. He had been studying that too, wondering if he should be putting it use.

_Two dreadnoughts, seven cruisers, nine frigates, all gone. Of the surviving ships, not a single one undamaged, many beyond repair. Thousands of lives lost. The greatest defeat in fifteen hundred years, and you, Septimus, were the one to preside over it!_

Even now he had a hard time grasping the scale of the violence and destruction that had been unleashed. No turian fleet had engaged in such a battle since the Krogan rebellions; there simply hadn't been anyone for them to fight. Only the quarrians had any recent experience in large scale naval battles, and even that dated back several centuries.

_Perhaps we should have asked the suit rats for advice. It's not as though they could have done any worse!_

Oraka emptied his glass in a single gulp and took another look at his pistol. It would be so easy, just a quick squeeze and it would all be over. It was not as though it had never been done before. Turian custom understood the concept of an honourable suicide, a way of admitting responsibility for ultimate failure. Still, the practice was never fully accepted. After all, a person's life wasn't his own; it belonged to the hierarchy.

_I wonder what the humans would think of that?_

Now there was an interesting question! Every time he closed his eyes Septimus saw the image of the human warship hurtling itself into Guiding Spirit, obliterating both itself and the dreadnought in an instant. It had become a favoured topic of discussing among his crews, who seemed about equally divided in their opinion as whether it was an example of perfect adherence to duty, or a sign of a petulant commander with a massive ego going on a self-destructive rampage at the expense of his crew. Septimus didn't really care. Whatever had been the motivation that drove the human commander to his actions, it had been effective. In the end, that was all that mattered.

With an angry gesture, Septimus pushed the weapon aside. No matter how he felt, he still had a job to do, a duty to fulfill. Councillor Sparatus needed to know what had occurred as soon as possible before a new set of blunders destroyed whatever chance they had left to make peace.

* * *

**Shanxi Space**

When the turian fleet retreated from Shanxi, two vessels remained behind. Aboard one of them, the STG specialists continued to monitor the battle. Things had not gone entirely as expected, but, then again, they rarely did; and there still was so much to learn. They finally had a baseline against which they could measure future human naval deployment and it looked like they would be able to establish a similar baseline for ground troops as well.

Aboard the other ship, the mood was generally festive, as far as the crew understood such a concept. They'd had a successful mission, but perhaps even more interesting, though less valuable, was the spectacle unfolding before their eyes.  
It had been a trap! After days and weeks of speculation, the humans had finally provided the answer. Intentional or not, the entire star system had served as bait in a giant trap that had drawn in an entire turian fleet and left them mangled beyond repair. The hunters looked on in joyful admiration. Truly, few species could provide as much entertainment as humans did. There was always a surprise waiting somewhere. Now the endgame was drawing near, and the hunters wouldn't have missed it for anything.

* * *

**(1) ADV= Air Defense Vehicle. Think a ME Grizzly vehicle with the turret of a Tunguska (Thanks to Huang Tuah for the suggestion)  
**

**The other vehicles are also Grizzly based: A mortar carrier, using an autoloader with a six shot magazine, and a bunch of variants of the standard armoured personnel carrier that are used for command and control, drone control etc.  
**


	29. The times, they are a-changing

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Geneva, Earth**

_Victory at Shanxi!_

_The public relations office of the United Systems Military informs us that the counter offensive has met with success. Under the command of admiral Kastanie Drescher the heroic men and women of Second Fleet have fought their way into Shanxi Space. In what military experts have called humanity's first Mass Relay assault, second fleet dealt a devastating blow to the invaders, destroying more than fifty percent of their naval strength. The survivors of the alien fleet have been driven from the system. All eyes now turn to the planetary surface of Shanxi, where Colonial marines and Homeguard forces, under the command of general Martin Perez, have landed and are crushing the alien occupation force. Our hearts and our prayers go out to the families of those who sacrificed their lives to achieve this victory. Among these fallen heroes is rear-admiral Pressly, second in command of Second Fleet, who was reported killed in action. Meanwhile-  
_

The reporter kept talking, filling the air with a seemingly endless supply of purple prose, but general Spears had already lost interest. He shut down the television set and leaned back in his chair

"So, we are back in business, and everyone is ecstatic. People always love a winner."

"It comes at a high cost," D'Orsinio commented sourly. "Second Fleet has taken heavy losses."

Spears shrugged. "You want to make an omelet, it's gonna cost you some eggs. A frontal assault is always costly. That's on Hammerstein and her friends. If Second Fleet had been in Shanxi space when the aliens arrived... Well, I think it's pretty clear how that would have ended."

"I'm not trying to argue that point, general, but it leaves the question: can second fleet proceed with its task?"

"Absolutely! The dockyards at Arcturus can do temporary fixes for most of the damaged ships. It won't be pretty, but it'll put them back in action within a few days. On top of that, Graf Spee will be at Shanxi by now, that gives admiral Drescher a fifth carrier and four more destroyers." Spears smiled briefly. "She'll be able to chase the aliens all the way back to their own mass relay. Once that is secured, it's they who will have to launch frontal attacks."

"So, we're safe then?"

"For the moment. Keep in mind, we still don't really know what we're dealing with. It's pretty clear that there are at least three different species out there, but so far we seem to have been fighting only one of them. There is simply no way to predict what will happen once the others get news of the latest battle." Spears shrugged again. "But that's all just speculation. Meanwhile, we have things to do here on earth."

"We?" D'Orsinio raised his eyebrows. "General, you have plenipotentiary powers. I'm not sure what more I can do for you."

Spears smiled. "Quite a lot, assembly member, quite a lot. You see, I've been thinking on the recent past. We dodged a major bullet. Mainly through luck. We cannot afford for something like this to happen again."

"I see." D'Orsinio had been in politics for a long time, and he had learned to hide his feelings quite well. Still, it was obvious that he was feeling very uneasy. "And, may I assume that you have thought of a solution?"

"Solutions, assembly member D'Orsinio. Solutions. I'm afraid that this is not the kind of problem that can be solved with a single action. We will have to make changes, many changes."

* * *

**Shanxi City, Shanxi  
**

The drone was flying in between the buildings, twisting and turning as it followed the streets of Shanxi, never rising above the rooftops. It was a small craft, small enough that it could have flown quite comfortably through the corridors of an office building. As it moved multiple sensors scanned the streets below as well as the surrounding buildings.

The small drone turned a corner, when, suddenly, a small movement behind one of the many windows caught its attention. The drone continued onwards, noting the location, but never stopping. It was quite smart, as far as such things went. Not sentient of course. Despite all the dire predictions, human computers had never achieved anything remotely like sentience, but it was capable of making limited independent decisions, based on the best combat algorithms human programmers could create. Firing on whoever was inside would only alert them to the fact that they had been discovered. Instead, the drone simply marked the building and send the necessary update back to its controller.

Another corner, more movement, a burst of fire. The drone turned sharply on its three thrusters, evading the incoming rounds. The gunfire triggered a different response. Twin guns, about the size of sub-machine guns, mounted underneath the nose, swiveled and returned fire. The drone turned again and launched two of its wing-mounted rockets through the open window before accelerating away.

Behind another window, a turian officer cursed bitterly. The fools should have known better. They had been fighting the humans for three days and by now everybody was aware, or should have been, that firing on the human drones was the absolute worst thing you could do. Even if you managed to bring the Spirits-damned thing down, it would still advertise your position to the advancing humans, and that was NOT a good idea.

**-o-o-o-**

Half a kilometer away a marine officer noted the hostile location marked on his GPS. His marines were pursuing an alien unit that had broken contact during the night. Now it looked like they had been found.

"Enemy location confirmed. Isolate and destroy."

Two Ud-4Ys that had been on stand-by moved in at high speed. Then the dropships braked sharply and deposited a platoon of marines behind the turian position, cutting them off from retreat. At the same time, a detachment of heavy armour moved forward. City streets were hardly the ideal environment for armoured vehicles, but they did have certain advantages, especially if you didn't care about preserving the city.  
A single Grizzly FSV moved forward, its turret turning slowly from side to side as the crew scanned for enemies as they closed in on the last known location of the enemy. Behind it, two more vehicles kept their distance, covering the first as it moved. The moment the target location came in sight the lead vehicle took aim and fired a high explosive shell through the window that the drone had originally marked. The explosion was somewhat muffled, but still enough to shatter windows all along the street. If anyone had stayed in that particular room, they were now past on the walls. The Grizzly continued forward, looking for new threats.

A turian soldier, looking through a broken window, raised his rocket launcher. His helmet mounted sight automatically compensated for the new weapon, but at this range, it was hardly necessary. The rocket streaked through the air and slammed into the vehicle's flank.  
There was a thunderous explosion and the Grizzly slowly rolled to a stop, smoke billowing through hatches that had been blasted open.

The turian victory was short-lived. A second FSV turned its turret around, co-axial and top mounted machine guns raking the windows. The main gun blasted, once, twice, and the upper floors of the building collapsed on top of the defenders. The remaining Grizzlys rolled onward. Behind them, a company of marines moved forward, using the vehicles as cover as they approached the buildings. Rooting out the turians was going to be a dangerous job, but it was something they were trained for, and in the close, no-holds-barred environment of indoor fighting their heavy firepower gave them a crucial advantage.

**-o-o-o-  
**

**Shanxi, Central Turian command**

Desolas' eyes burned as he looked at the tactical plot. When general Oraka had informed him of his decision to withdraw Desolas had thought he'd be able to hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive. After all, the humans had managed to draw the battle out for weeks, and even then they had only been defeated by the threat of orbital bombardment. Surely, his own soldiers should have been able to do the same, especially since the humans were unlikely to bombard their own city. Instead, after only a few days, he was looking at disaster, not only here on the planet, but on a larger scale as well:  
His soldiers were dying out there and they were not dying alone. Something else was dying as well: a reputation. Turians were the galaxy's best soldiers. Everyone knew that. Sure, krogan might make for better shock troops, but they fought as individuals, not as a team, and no matter how hard you trained them, they always lacked discipline. Asari and even salarians might produce better special forces, but they lacked the fortitude and strength for frontline duty. Strangely enough, it was the batarians who had come closest to matching the prowess of the turians as all-round soldiers, but they had never actually matched it.  
Now, things had changed. His soldiers were fighting bravely; no one had ever accused turians of cowardice and that would not happen today either. Time and again, human marines had to dig the turian defenders out of cover and kill them hand to hand, often at great cost; but, for the first time since the Krogan Rebellions, the Hierarchy had found an enemy that was willing to do just that, and had the tools to do so. As a result, his soldiers were simply being overwhelmed. Wherever they fortified up the humans flowed around their positions like water. If they couldn't go around they called up armour support and gunships to flatten the target, and when all else failed they would storm the buildings and kill the defenders one at a time, no matter how long it took or how many lives it cost. The turians tried to stop them, but these were not the veterans of the Armiger Legion. Most were conscripts, doing their required service to the Hierarchy before moving on to other jobs. They would fight, fight well even, but somebody needed to tell them what to do and that took time, not much perhaps, but more than the humans allowed them.  
By now he had effectively lost control of the entire planet, with the sole exception of the capital city, and even there his troops had been forced to give ground, abandoning position after position in order to avoid being cut off and exterminated.

* * *

**Destiny Ascension, Citadel space**

Matriarch Lidanya looked around the conference room, which contained the assembled commanders of the CItadel Defense Fleet. Normally meetings like this were done remotely, but somethings just had to be said face-to-face. Besides, it had the advantage of isolating the captains from their ships, just in case one of them decided to go rogue.

"As you are all aware, general Desolas Arterius invaded human space in an attempt to force the humans to negotiate" _Well, that was his excuse. _"That strategy has ended in disaster."

That had everyone's attention.

"Official word has reached the council-"_ In a way._ "-that the humans have launched a counter-offensive. They have retaken control of the space around their colony and forced the turian fleet to retreat to Relay 288. General Arterius and the ground force remained planet-side and have been either killed or captured, or soon will be."

The gathered officers seemed frozen. No turian force had suffered a setback of this magnitude since the Krogan Rebellions.

"As a result of a mishandled first contact and of general Arterius failed strategy-"_ Let's make sure we're all clear about that._ "-citadel space now faces a potential invasion from a hostile force of unknown strength. General Oraka's remaining ships are in no condition to effectively defend the mass relay. His force has been reduced to one damaged dreadnought and eight cruisers, several of which have been severely damaged. If they are overrun; and they will be, if the humans decide to launch a counter attack; we will be in an impossible position. Relay 288 has three possible destinations within citadel space, so the humans will have their choice of targets and we cannot defend them all. Clearly this is unacceptable. Therefore, the Citadel Council has decided that they can no longer stand on the sidelines. As of one hour ago I received orders, signed by all three councilors, to deploy the Destiny Ascension along with elements of the citadel defense fleet to Relay 288 and take charge of the situation."

Lidanya hesitated. This was the tough point. She had to keep the momentum of the meeting going to prevent the turian captains from realizing that they were being pushed into a policy that might run contrary to the wishes of the Hierarchy. At the same time it was imperative that everyone present was convinced of the seriousness of the current situation. She continued:  
"We will have two mission objectives. First and foremost, we will ensure that the humans do not enter citadel space. This will require that we defend relay 288 at all costs. I believe that with general Oraka's help we will be able to do so, at least until reinforcements arrive. Our second objective is far more difficult. The council wants this war to end, and end quickly."

"How?!" Someone blurted out. All eyes were quickly drawn to the speaker, a salarian captain. " I mean... We don't even know what we're fighting. We don't know how many humans there are, how many ships they have... How can we formulate a strategy if we don't-"

"We cannot." Lidanya studied the speaker, wondering if perhaps councilor Milnori had briefed him in advance. It was a little too convenient that he would speak up and voice exactly those concerns she needed to convince the others. Then again, these were the things a salarian would worry about.  
"Thanks to general Oraka's reports we know more about the humans than we did, but the information is still incomplete. You are right. We don't know enough to plan a military campaign. Fortunately, our intended goal may be achievable without such a campaign. There is one thing we can try, what we should have tried right away: We will try to open communications."

The room erupted in chaos.

* * *

**For the drones I'm thinking of the small flying craft from Terminator, Rise of the Machines, rather than the ones from Mass Effect. I always thought the drone design from ME1 and ME2 rather ugly.**

**FSV: Fire support vehicle, Grizzly based, but with a tank-like turret.**


	30. Legion of the lost, cohort of the damned

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

**I'm very sorry for the delay, but between getting slammed at work and a nasty case of the flu I couldn't concentrate for long enough to write.**

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**Geneva, Earth**

"I have looked at your plans, general. I must say, I'm very concerned about this."

Spears smiled; _no surprise there_.

"I mean, I understand the part about giving the military permission to move within our borders as it sees fit, without waiting for approval from the Assembly. The whole debacle at Shanxi had taught us the need for that. But the rest... Permanent positions in the general Assembly don't exist! And you want to give them to military officers, people who haven't even been elected."

"But those people would be pre-approved by elected members, mr. D'Orsinio. The members of the USM general staff have always been subjected to an assembly veto whenever they were appointed. I don't propose to change that. As to the non-existence of permanent members, I agree that it will change things, but is that a bad thing? I think some element of continuity is called for. After all, elected officials may come and go, the security of the human species is an ongoing concern. A permanent member, not subject to the ever changing whims of public opinion, would be able to focus on long-term planning, rather than the exigencies of the moment. Besides, they would only make up a small fraction of the assembly. Never enough to dominate the voting process."

"The voting process? D'Orsinio snorted. "That brings me to the last point. Restricting voting rights to veterans? You actually want to limit the franchise? You may be popular with the people, general, but nobody will support that!"

"Oh, I think they will, Mr. D'Orsinio. I think they will. Remember, it isn't the local administration that we are talking about here. I have absolutely no intention to interfere in that. In fact, if it were up to me, I would give every colony the freedom to decide for themselves how they want to arrange their internal system of government. Only the United Systems Assembly would be affected."

"Which is the most important government organization of them all!"

Now it was Spears' turn to snort. "Really? Do you actually believe that? Most of the human population is barely aware of the United Systems. They never interact with it on a meaningful level. I can assure you that the average citizens would be hard-pressed to recall the name of their representative in the General Assembly. Local government is what they deal with. Hell, according to recent election statistics most of them don't even bother to vote for the General Assembly, so limiting that franchise will not take anything away from them. Besides, we don't need to actually take it away from existing voters, just apply the law to the new generation when they grow up. Who knows? It might actually engender a spirit of patriotism in modern day youth."  
Spears' voice hardened. "This is not a subject for debate, and, frankly, you and your colleagues should be thanking me. The Hammerstein conspiracy may have been set aside for the moment, in the general euphoria following our recent victory, but that doesn't mean it has been forgotten. Once the dust settles on the battlefield, humanity will demand a reckoning. Now, we can give them two answers: The first is that we'll crush the conspiracy root and branch. That means investigations in the behavior of ALL assembly members, and their staffs, and their associates, followed by public trials. Or, alternatively, we can show the people that we are taking effective steps to make sure that it never happens again. We can give the people one of these two options, or we can give them both. But we cannot give them neither; we'd have revolt on our hands. Now, given that choice, which option do you think your esteemed colleagues in the General Assembly would prefer. Don't mistake me, D'Orsinio. There will be changes, one way or another."

D'Orsinio nodded. "I see your point, general. But what you fail to understand is that ANY such changes require a radical change in the constitution. Frankly, I'm not even sure such changes are legally possible. It would require that people, elected under the constitution, effectively conspire to overthrow that same constitution."

Spears opened his mouth to interrupt, but D'Orsinio continued. "IF this is to be done at all, it would require the cooperation of the entire Assembly. Not just a majority, or even a quorum. The vote has to be unanimous. Now, I daresay that many of the colonial members would support you, especially in the aftermath of a successful war. But to get the support of Earth's representatives? That would require serious concessions. You should think carefully before you try to push this."

"Oh, I have thought about it. You can tell your colleagues from me that they have a choice. If they support me on this, I personally guarantee that their will be no further investigations. Hammerstein's plot will end with her death. If they don't, well, I have the names of at least a dozen members who collaborated her in strong-arming colonial representatives and at least twice that number that actively helped Hammerstein with the delaying tactics. In the current political climate, I doubt they'll live long enough to stand trial. I stopped the lynch mobs the last time, because I couldn't afford the chaos. Now things have changed. I have enough authority to keep the government running, even if half the Assembly gets taken out. Next time, I'll just sit back and enjoy the show."

"I see. Well," D'Orsinio stood up. "It seems I must take my leave, general. I will have to discuss this with my peers."

After the D'Orsinio had left, Spears picked up his comm unit and called a number.

"Harper? It's Spears. It seems we are in business."

* * *

**Shanxi city**

General Perez looked out of the window of the abandoned office building to which he had moved his headquarters. It had been a good day. In fact, he'd had several good days in a row. His forces had ground their way through the city, taking losses, but inflicting far more casualties on an enemy that was simply not equipped for this kind of warfare. By now the battle was nearly over. The alien invasion force had been shattered, cut into small groups, and then crushed. In some cases this had meant a fight to the death, but as the days went by more and more had chosen to surrender, a sure sign that even they understood that there was no longer any point in continuing the fight. Either way, they had all succumbed to the inevitable; all but one group.

In the distance, he could see the massive structure that had at one time been the headquarters facility of general Williams. Now it was the last stronghold of the alien invasion. The question was, what to do about it. If he wanted, he could end the whole thing in seconds. Second fleet's destroyers were in orbit and could easily smash the building with mass accelerator rounds. Alternatively, the rapid deployment vessels carried clusters of space-to-ground missiles that could achieve the same effect with either conventional or nuclear warheads. However, such weapons tended to be rather indiscriminate and Perez had it on good authority that a large number of human prisoners was still held inside the facility. So was the alien commander, and Perez would very much prefer to take him alive as well. Aerial bombardment by either Second fleet's F302s, or by the Cheyennes carried the same problem. The only weapons strong enough to break open the facility were also big enough to kill everyone inside.  
The only alternative to bombardment was direct assault. Unfortunately, the facility had been designed with that threat in mind. All approaches were covered by multiple arcs of fire from within the complex, with little or no cover to protect the soldiers. Any attacking force would be wading in its own blood, long before they reached the entrance, and Perez was loath to throw away the lives of his marines that way. Fortunately, there was an alternative.

There was a brief knock on the door.

"General Melletin to see you, general."

"Send her in."

Brigade-general Melletin would have been something of a disappointment to her distant Prussian ancestors. Setting aside the fact that none of them could have conceived of a woman in uniform, she just didn't fit the stereotype; not even a feminine form of the stereotype. Where all Prussian officers were supposed to be tall, lean, and mustached and have their faces adorned with several dueling scars, Melletin was short and stocky. She didn't cultivate a mustache for obvious reasons, and while fencing was still practiced at some universities none would have permitted the half-open face masks that allowed for the traditional scarring ritual. She was also in a bad mood. Dispatched in haste to represent Earth in the invasion force, her 501st Homeguard Brigade had been shipped to Arcturus and then on to Shanxi with very little notice, no time to prepare, and ultimately no clear role in the invasion, which had been planned assuming that it would be carried out by the two marine divisions. Untrained for orbital insertion under fire, they had been held back from the initial landing and by the time they finally hit the ground most of the battle had been fought and won, and the 501st had been relegated to rear-guard duty. It was a recipe for frustration.

"Ah, general, " Perez' face was a picture of congeniality. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope all is well with your brigade? Your logistical support is providing all the supplies you need?"

"Quite so, general."

"Good, good. General, have you been kept fully informed of the situation at the front?"

"Such as it is?" General Melletin's face twisted briefly into something that could with some generosity be termed a smile. "From what I've been told there isn't much front left."

"True." Perez nodded. "Quite true. Still, it's always the last pockets of resistance that give the most trouble. If you would take a look..." He pushed a map of Shanxi City to the middle of the table. "Apart from the occasional lonely enemy soldier, who got separated from his unit and is lost, more than anything else, the only enemy force left is holding out in the old military headquarters. We estimate they have at least a battalion worth of troops there, maybe as many as three and they seem hell-bent on fighting it out. While normally that problem could be solved with a few mass-accelerator rounds from orbit, this group seems to have quite a few prisoners locked up inside the building. Senior officers, political leaders, etc. I cannot, in good conscience condemn those people to death without at least an attempt to get them out alive. Besides, we have it on good authority that the turian commander and his senior staff are among the enemy force as well. If we could capture at least some of them alive, we could learn a great deal."

"Did you ask for surrender?"

"We tried, nearly an hour ago." Perez shrugged. It had been worth a try. "The deadline is running out. It seems they insist on being foolish. It cannot just be a culture thing. Plenty of their soldiers have surrendered already. There is no way to tell, of course, but it looks like some of them either don't know when they're beaten or are too proud to admit it. In any case, the question regarding their motives is largely academic, all that matters is that it leaves me with a problem. I cannot flatten the facility without killing our own people, as well as a lot of potential information sources. But I cannot wait to starve them out, either. There is no way to tell how long that would take and the prisoners would starve along with their guards. On top of that, Second Fleet has orders to remain in local space until Shanxi is fully liberated, so we simply cannot afford the delay. That leaves one alternative

"I see. A frontal assault then. Carried out by my brigade, I assume, or else I wouldn't be here."

Perez nodded. "It is the only way to end this quickly. I could, of course, use the marines, but they have been fighting non-stop for several days, while your unit is fully rested. I'm sure you understand-"

"I understand completely, general Perez. Earth's debt to Shanxi has to be paid. It appears we'll be settling that account today, in blood." She took a deep breath. "I will need a few hours to move my people into position. I will also need some technical support."

"Of course, general. What do you require?"

Melletin smiled without humor. "Loudspeakers, general. A lot of them. If soldiers are called upon to charge into enemy fire, they need some inspiration. More than a few speeches can provide."

Perez nodded. "Music, of course. Ride of the Valkyries, I assume."

"Wagner?" Melletin raised an eyebrow. "A man who needed an entire orchestra to make himself heard. I prefer something a little less vulgar. Besides, the 501st Homeguard brigade has always used its own marching music. I can show you the relevant order if you wish."

Perez jaw nearly dropped. "Wait, someone actually signed an order regarding your marching music? What kind of idiot armchair general would bother to-"

"That would be His Royal Majesty Frederick II, king of Prussia." General Melletin's face remained expressionless. "Now, with your permission, I have a suicide charge to organize."

**-o-o-o-**

**Turian headquarters (former USM headquarters) Shanxi city**

Daraya looked around the conference room where general Arterius had assembled most of his remaining officers. They had been debating for hours, trying to find a way out of the trap in which they found themselves. Plans had ranged from a protracted siege while waiting for a relieve force, through a break-out and hiding in the countryside to bargaining with the remaining human prisoners as hostages. At first Daraya had tried to make her opinion known, but before long she had just given up. No one was listening. The defeat had come too quickly; the turians simply could not grasp it, could not understand the magnitude of it. They were off in a fantasy land of their own, where they still had a chance of winning.

She sighed, wondering once again how it had all come to this. Military service had never been her ambition. Instead she had devoted the past two centuries to the study of language and culture. Her job at Aephus headquarters had simply been an extension of those studies. Then the war had started. At first she had been thrilled to take charge of deciphering the human language. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime. Unfortunately, her success had led to being assigned to the turian fleet when they set out on this ill-fated adventure. Still, it had given her an opportunity to continue her work, to expand her knowledge and refine the translation software that she had helped design. At least, as long as things were going well.

_'The only thing worse than a successful war, is a war that's going badly!'_ She smiled bitterly. Some matriarch had said that during the Krogan rebellions._ I wonder what she would say about this war. At least in her time people actually had a reason to fight. Now we're doing it, why again? Because those fools didn't know what else to do?_

"General!" A voice came through one of the loudspeakers. "The humans are moving!"

**-o-o-o-**

All around the compound Grizzly APCs rolled forward, their turrets turning back and forth as they searched for potential threats. Behind each vehicle groups of infantry crouched, using whatever cover they could find. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing moved, then, as by unspoken command, one of the Grizzlies opened fire, its autocannon raking the walls of the headquarters building. A second joined in, a third...  
From the building, the turian defenders answered with rockets, only to be silenced as the human guns concentrated fire on their positions. The armored vehicles moved forward. Several of them had been taken out, but the weight of fire was overwhelmingly in their favor.

The Grizzlies stopped their approach. By now they were close enough to the building that they could target individual firing slits. From the sides of the Grizzlies' turrets, small canisters flew in high arcs, spewing white smoke, which obscured the battlefield. Inside the buildings turian defenders cursed and activated the infrared amplifiers that had been built into their helmets. Although it would help them see through the smoke, the blob-like infrared images were less than optimal for target acquisition. On top of that, the glow of several burning vehicles overwhelmed the sensors.

For one moment the guns fell silent. Somewhere behind the lines, someone pushed a button, activating massive loudspeakers that had been rigged up for the occasion. As the first notes sounded, the infantry emerged from behind the Grizzlies and charged across the open ground toward the walls of the building. Turian guns mowed down the front ranks, even as Grizzly gunners swept their gattling guns back and forth in a desperate attempt to cover the attack. Within seconds, the open ground in front of the walls was littered with the bodies of the dead and the dying, but more human soldiers were moving forward, crawling beneath the gunfire as the Grizzlies silenced the turian guns.

**-o-o-o-**

Deep inside the fortified headquarters Daraya looked up as the internal speakers relayed the sound from outside the walls. Human music sounded as strange to her now as it had the first time she heard it, but something about this particular tune seemed to spark a memory. A scene from an unknown world that general Oraka had shown her, columns of soldiers marching between massive stone pillars, carrying torches that lit up the night.

"They're coming for us. They're coming for us now."

No one answered her.

**-o-o-o-**

The clear tones of a bugle could still be heard above the noise of the battle as the soldiers struggled on. No turian had ever heard of the Hohenfriedberg; nor, for that matter, was it likely that many of the humans present would have been able to find the location on a map, let alone explain its significance. Still, some of the survivors would afterwards, after a few drinks, swear that they had seen a tall man wearing a cocked hat and a long coat, riding a white horse through the dust and smoke of the battle. So, perhaps, somewhere beyond space and time, an old Prussian king was listening as the 501st Homeguard brigade, distant inheritors of the legacy of his famous Bayreuth Dragoons, charged across an alien battlefield to the same tune that he composed for them five centuries before.

By now the first soldiers were at the walls, beneath the firing arcs of the turian weapons. The remnants of the assault teams were gathering, collecting whatever personnel they could find to compensate for their losses, and searching for their entry points. Other soldiers crouched beneath the firing ports, tossing in grenades wherever possible to force the defenders back.  
A shaped charge blew in one of the side doors. A Grizzly APC aimed its Gatling at the newly created hole and emptied several hundred rounds into the interior before the first soldiers pushed forward. Another strike team managed to climb on top of one of the lower buildings and tossed a breaching charge through an air shaft before rappelling down. Losses were terrible as turian defenders caught the intruders in pre-set crossfires, but more and more human soldiers streamed into the building and their firepower advantage started to count, driving the defenders deeper into the base from where they could no longer cover the entrances.

**-o-o-o-**

"General, they have broken through again." Colonel Macrus, who had taken command of the outer defenses, reported. "We're still holding them off at the stairs, but we're not going to last much longer. Sir, I regret to inform you that our defenses will collapse within the hour."

"General," Daraya decided to try one more time. She couldn't be sure what captivity would be like, but she doubted that forcing the humans to fight their way through the building would improve matters. "General, it's over. If you continue to fight, it will just increase the death-toll."

"We still have the prisoners," one of the turians insisted. "We can negotiate-"

"Negotiate what?" Daraya snapped. "You have nowhere to go! There isn't a single turian warship left in this system and the remaining food supplies are now in the hands of your enemies. Playing a hostage game will simply delay the inevitable. Always assuming, of course, that the humans are willing to negotiate and don't just shoot straight through the hostages. Use your brains for once. IT IS OVER!"

General Arterius looked up from the table. Guessing a turian's age was difficult at best, and often impossible, but right now he looked old, very old.

"You're right."

"General-," even now one of his staff officers started to argue.

"Silence!" For long seconds, no one spoke. "She is right. This is a battle we cannot win. Prolonging the fight will merely increase the death toll. Tell colonel Macrus..., tell him to withdraw from the upper levels. We need to create some distance between our soldiers and the humans, or we will not even be able to surrender. Once Macrus has disengaged, open a comm channel to the human commander. Ask him for his terms."

**-o-o-o-**

General Melletin grimaced as she walked into the courtyard. She had taken several shrapnel hits when a lucky shot from a turian missile hit her command vehicle, two of which had penetrated her body armour. A third had somehow managed to slice in between her face and helmet, cutting a deep gash into her cheek. _My very own Mensur-Schmisse, My great-great, great something grandfather would have been so proud!_ Temporary bandages had stopped the bleeding for the moment, but she desperately needed proper medical attention. However, there were things that simply couldn't be delegated.

"What is the status of the surrender?"

"No problems so far, ma'am. Enemy troops have laid down their weapons and are being rounded up. No resistance."

"And the prisoners?"

"We have found several hundred of our people in the cells. Mainly military personnel. As far as we can tell, they have not been mistreated."

"Good."

The inner courtyard was a slaughterhouse, with the bodies of humans and aliens alike piled up everywhere. However, their disposal would have to wait until a more important task had been completed.

"Fetch those rags down. Now!"

Several soldiers ran toward the stairs, climbing toward the roof of the main building where the banners of the invaders were still visible against the sky. One after another, they were picked up and tossed down into the dirt and blood of the courtyard. Another soldier rushed up, carrying a package that had been prepared for this moment. A few seconds passed, then a ragged cheer went up, echoed by many more outside as they watched the spectacle. General Melletin drew herself to attention and saluted, wincing as the movement pulled at one of her wounds.  
The cost had been high, far too high, much of it paid by her own people, but Earth's debt had been paid in full. The flag of the Alliance of United Systems waved once more over Shanxi City.

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**Obviously, Spears is moving toward a Starship Troopers' society model, where political power is reserved for veterans. Ironically, he is doing exactly the same thing that Hammerstein did: exploiting a crisis to push a personal agenda. His agenda doesn't involve sacrificing millions of people, but in the long run it is far more invasive.  
**

**Regarding the music: The Hohenfriedberg March (you can find it on youtube) is commonly associated with the Bayreuth Dragoons, but the exact nature of the link is subject to debate. We know for certain that, ******after their performance at the battle of Hohenfriedberg,** Frederick the Great signed an order that allowed them from that day on to play whatever music they liked, irrespective of what the army as a whole used. I thought it funny to imagine that some unit still clings to that privilege after half a millennium. Whether he composed the march himself is uncertain. An alternative story tells that the march already existed and was played as they marched toward that battle. However, Frederick was known to be a gifted musician and the tune is fairly simple, so it is certainly possible and I decided to go with the more popular explanation.  
Soldiers seeing historical figures during battles is a common phenomenon, from Athenian hoplites seeing Theseus at the battle of Marathon to sightings of st George in the trenches during WW1, so I guess some things never change. Speaking of which: The line Daraya quotes is, of course, paraphrased from the Duke of Wellington after Waterloo.  
**

**As for the number of the brigade, anime fans may recognize where the 501st comes from.**


	31. The pawns are moving

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Geneva, Earth**

"So, we have ourselves another victory." Harper smiled briefly. "That's very good news. I was worried that we had started our political reform campaign too soon. A military defeat at this stage would have been awkward."

"I know," Spears said. "But we couldn't afford to wait any longer. We only have a small window of opportunity, before our 'political masters' regroup and entrench themselves. Besides, the outcome of the ground war was decided the moment we chased out their fleet. The only variable was how long it would take. In any case, it's all water under the bridge now. We've created the correct political climate, we've won our victories. Now it's up to d'Orsinio to deliver and from the looks of it, he plans to do just that. "

"D'Orsinio came around pretty easily didn't he?" Harper mused. "He's certainly thrown himself into his work. His speeches are... quite persuasive."

Spears nodded. "Yes. I'm a bit surprised, though. I hadn't expected D'Orsinio to give in that quickly. It's not as though he is powerless. He could have caused us a world of trouble."

Harper smiled. "It fits his character. D'Orsinio didn't build his power base by fighting battles he couldn't win. Right now, we are in charge and we're simply too strong for him to challenge; not without building a support platform of his own, which would take time. So, for the moment he goes along with us. Besides, I think he's getting a taste for public acclaim. After being obscure for so long, the limelight seems to be addictive. If he goes along with our plans and we succeed in reshaping the United Systems, well, his place in history would be secured."

"So, as long as we maintain strong public support, he'll publicly support us too, both to preserve his position and for the opportunity to shine that we have given him."

"Exactly. Meanwhile, I'm keeping tabs on him to make sure his ambitions don't grow out of control. I don't expect too many problems, at least not in the short term. In the long term, well, that's impossible to predict, but I suspect that as long as the military keeps delivering victories, d'Orsinio will be happy to ride our coattails. And if not, well, then we'll deal with him."

Spears couldn't resist. "Another hedge-fund scandal?"

"Please, general. Give me some credit for originality. Don't worry, I have measures in place."

"Good. What else do we need to deal with."

"There is one other thing, and it ties in directly with D'Orsinio. We need to decide what to do with general Williams."

Spears raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"General Williams has become the center of considerable controversy, general. It seems half the population considers him a martyred hero, while the other half wants his head. It doesn't help that the latter group is divided between those who think he should have fought to the death and those who believe he should have surrendered at once to prevent loss of life."

"So?" Spears shrugged. "That is nothing new. In any case, because he surrendered his command he'll be subject to a board of inquiry, possibly a court-martial. Let them decide whether he did the right thing. We can spin it either way."

"That is exactly the problem, general. We cannot afford a public trial, and it would have to be public to avoid looking like a cover-up. Williams best defense would be that he did not receive the support he needed to continue the fight. If he does that, he'll be pointing the finger straight at the General Assembly. How do you think D'Orsinio and his friends would react to that?"

"Damn!" There was a moment of silence. Then Spears said slowly, "What do you suggest?"

"There are several options, general. Perhaps we can persuade general Williams to see things our way. I would think that he, too, might prefer to avoid a public trial, which, depending on the judges, might turn out very unpleasant."

"And if he wants his day in court?"

"That is certainly possible," Harper conceded. "But then again, general Williams must be under a great deal of stress. It would not be inconceivable if he committed so desperate act. After all, ms. Hammerstein did the same, didn't she?

Before Spears could answer Harper stood up. "In any case, it's time I went back to work, general. Politicians don't keep themselves honest, you know."

He left the room, leaving Spears to wonder, not for the first time, whether it wouldn't be better if he got rid of Harper, before Harper felt the need to deal with him.

* * *

**Shanxi**

The STG operatives were exhausted. For more than a week they had been working around the clock as they observed the human fleet maneuvers a well as the ground offensive. It had been a wonderful time in any respects: so much to see, so much to study. Already the databanks of their small ship held a wealth of information, enough to keep several research divisions bus for generations. Still, it was with a sense of relieve that the crew noted that their working days were coming to an end. Over the past days, the human fleet strength had increased steadily. Some ships were new arrivals that had come through the relay within days of the human victory. Others were already known: ships that had limped away through the relay only to return several days later, their hulls patched up. Even the ships that had stayed in the system had need repairs, which had been carried out by special ships that had followed them into the system. It had been an impressive show of engineering skill and confirmed the salarians' suspicions that the humans had to have considerable industrial power within a short distance of the connecting relay.

Now the larger part of the fleet was moving, forming up in some sort of pattern that must have made sense to the humans. It was an impressive spectacle: Five of the massive fighter carriers, twenty-six cruiser-sized vessels of various different designs and eighteen frigates. A small group of four more cruisers and three frigates was moving parallel to the main body. As the salarians watched in fascination, the formation moved ponderously away from the inner system, picking up speed. The STG vessel followed at a respectful distance, still hidden behind the best stealth systems salarian technology could produce. As soon as the human fleet left the system they would move around them and race ahead. The humans were moving and it wasn't difficult to guess where. By the time they arrived at their destination, the STG would have made sure that there was a welcoming committee for them.

Even further away, the Yautja ship kept an eye on the human fleet movement as well. Unlike the STG they would follow the humans at a leisurely pace. They were in no hurry. All they cared about was that they would be present when the human war fleet reached Citadel Space. That kind of event promised to be most entertaining.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"All ships ready for FTL speed, ma'am."

Admiral Drescher nodded. "Have them stand by for my order."

"Yes, ma'am."

Drescher studied the plot. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Second fleet was back in action, even stronger than when she had led them through the mass relay. _At least in numbers. _She thought sourly. _Too many of these ships are only partially operational. The repair crews have performed a small miracle as it is, but still... _It was the reason she hadn't transferred her flag back to Ark Royal. The engineers had repaired the carrier's flight decks, but Ark Royal's flag bridge had not had the same priority and remained out of operation.

"Did the science team find everything they need?"

"Yes ma'am, they did. Ma'am about that-"

"The decision had been taken." Drescher glared at her unfortunate chief-of-staff. That was another problem. With commander Hackett in the hospital, she'd had to settle for a new deputy. Commander Singh was not a bad officer, but there had been very little time for him to settle into his new responsibilities and he had an unfortunate habit of wanting to revisit items that had already been decided. Admiral Drescher forced herself to remain calm, the start of a major campaign was not the right moment to reshuffle her staff, so for the moment, she was stuck with the man. "I understand your concerns commander, but I will not have an unexplored mass relay behind me when the fleet advances. We have to pass through the system anyway to discharge our drive cores, so we may as well open the relay. We should count ourselves fortunate that Drs. Xui and Fasse, and their team were still at Arcturus. Even without Auriga's facilities, they should be able to open that dormant relay and send a scouting party through.

Singh nodded. "I understand, ma'am. It's just, we'll be leaving seven ships behind with them."

"AN unfortunate necessity, but without Auriga, several ships would be needed in any case to transport the equipment. Four Rapid Deployment Vessels will not make that much of a difference in firepower. As for the frigates, someone has to do the scouting and, if they run into trouble, the frigates will be fast enough to escape and carry word to us. In any case, it is my decision to make, and I've made it. Now, will there be anything else?"

"No, ma'am." At least Singh was smart enough to know when to stop.

"Excellent. Then take us out of the system."

* * *

**Relay 288**

"Well, here we are."

Matriarch Lidanya studied the map of the star system. Not that is was particularly interesting. The system containing Relay 288 was uninhabited and for good reason. There just wasn't anything of interest. The same was true for the surrounding systems. _No wonder that people stopped exploring this region of space. Too bad that it's come back to haunt us. Goddess, what a mess._

Despite all the reports that she had studied, Lidanya had not been quite as prepared as she had thought for the reality that had been waiting for her. Neither had her crews. It had simply been too long since anyone had fought a major war in space, even by asari reckoning. The sight of the surviving turian ships, less than a third of the fleet that had set out only a few months earlier had been a shock, made worse by the fact that many of them were little more than wrecks_. A good thing that we arrived in time. If the humans had followed them here, they would have smashed through the turians as though they weren't there.  
_If seeing the turian ships had been bad, the meeting with general Oraka had, if anything, been even worse. She had met the turian general before and liked him. This time, instead of the well-mannered, smooth talking officer of the past, she had found him bitter, defeated. Warfare had been a task for which Oraka had practiced all his life, and when he had finally been put to the ultimate test, he had failed. It didn't matter, that he'd fought well, or that it was unlikely that anyone could have done better under the circumstances. His ships had been destroyed, too many of his people killed, and, worst of all, he had been forced to leave thousands of turian soldiers stranded on an alien planet. By now, they were either dead or captives and Oraka would have to live with the knowledge of that failure.

Still, awkward as the meeting had been, it had at least been useful. A consummate professional, even in defeat, Oraka had studied the recordings of the battle carefully and had been able to collect a comprehensive picture of the human military capabilities. Unfortunately, the news had not been good. Having left the turian contingent of the Citadel Defense Fleet behind Lidanya's force had been reduced to only three dreadnoughts and fourteen cruisers. Of course, one of these dreadnoughts was the Destiny Ascension, the most powerful warship ever built, but even the Destiny Ascension needed to come within effective firing distance of the enemy.  
The humans didn't have that kind of trouble. Even if they left the damaged fighter carrier behind and only deployed the three remaining vessels, they would have about three times Lidanya's fighter strength. That would leave her ships very vulnerable and, unlike in the previous engagement, there was absolutely no reason for the human carriers to go anywhere near her fleet. They could stand off at the outer edge of the system and send in their strike waves without going anywhere near the Destiny Ascension. Whether those strikes would be enough to destroy her dreadnoughts was an open question, but not one she was particularly eager to explore. Together they had discussed various possible counter moves, but there had been so satisfactory solution to the tactical problem and not enough time to debate it either. Oraka and his ships had to be out of the system before the humans arrived to improve the chances of opening negotiations. So, they had left for the Arphus shipyards. There they would take up a defensive position on top of the mass relay; largely for show, but necessary to show that the Hierarchy was still defending Citadel Space.

_ If only I could defend the relay from the other side. _That would certainly solve a lot of problems. She could have kept dreadnoughts within firing range of the relay and destroy any ship that came through, the moment it appeared. Unfortunately, Relay 288 linked to no less than three other relays in Citadel Space and she didn't have the strength to guard them all.  
_Besides, then there would be no time to talk. _Lidanya grimaced. It had seemed such a reasonable plan when they came up with it back on the Citadel. It was quite a bit different when you were far from home, waiting for the arrival of a powerful, and most likely enraged, enemy. At least Oraka had been able to supply her with the latest version of the translation software. They would be able to understand the humans, at least. Always assuming that the humans had anything to say.

She sighed. One way or another, she would find out soon enough.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A short filler chapter, but I needed to move the various forces to their locations. **

**When I used the number 501, I was actually thinking of Strike Witches. I didn't even remember that it was also a Star Wars reference. Ah well, I guess it works either way.  
**

**A reviewer wondered why the HQ wasn't damaged from the original capture. General Williams surrendered before they reached it, so the turians captured it intact. If he hadn't, they wouldn't have bothered storming it, but just smashed it from orbit.  
**


	32. On the edge of a cliff

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**USM Dagger, Outer system, near Relay 288**

While Second Fleet made its way from system to system, discharging their drive cores repeatedly in order to avoid being caught by the enemy without the option of breaking away, the frigates had raced ahead to the system containing the relay. There they had come out of FTL far outside the system to avoid detection and then crept inward under minimum power to launch their reconnaissance drones. Now that precaution was paying off. The presence of an alien fleet near the relay was not a surprise. Its composition was.

"What the...?"

"These are the latest images, ma'am."

Commander Farnsworth closed her eyes and prayed silently for patience. "I know that, ensign. That is not the point. These numbers, have they been checked?"

"Yes, ma'am. We have independent observations from three different drones."

"And we' re absolutely sure that ship is Eezo-powered. No tachyon shunt drive?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Vey well, dismissed."

As the ensign left the compartment, Farnsworth looked again at the data. The alien ships looked weird, wrong somehow. They had neither the blunt functionality of human ships nor the sharp lines and angles that had been observed on turian ships. Instead, most of the vessels holding position on the mass relay seemed smooth, curved, as though they had been designed to operate under water, rather than in space. But that was not all. The ship at the centre of the alien formation was not the biggest spaceship she had ever seen. An FTL hauler with a heavy load attached could be considerably bigger. It was, however, by far the biggest warship she had ever encountered. Longer than any fleet carrier and estimated at approximately four times a carrier's mass, it had smooth lines even where it's weapon systems had been worked into the hull.  
The purpose of the ship was difficult to guess. As a ship increased in size, the size of its element zero core increased exponentially with the mass. For a ship this size that meant that the drive system would take up a significant fraction of the available internal space. That was the reason humanity had never build bigger carriers. Aside from the enormous costs, the loss of internal volume to the drive made them increasingly inefficient. Tachyon shunts were the way to go when you wanted a bigger ship, but their low top speed limited their military usefulness. Apparently, no-one had seen fit to tell the aliens. Then again, they seemed to favour guns over fighter wings, and for a ship that served purely as a gun platform internal space was far less valuable than for a carrier.

_Now there is an ugly thought! A mass accelerator that size would pack one hell of a punch. Time to get out of here and let the admiral know what we found._

**-o-o-o-**

**Presidium, the Citadel**

"This is UNACCEPTABLE!"

Councillor Sparatus was careful to keep his facial expressions under control. He had not looked forward to making this particular call, even though he knew it was necessary, but now that the time had come he found it quite amusing to see his former rival explode with rage.

"Unacceptable, Primarch? In what sense? The Citadel Council is simply doing its duty: to promote peace and stability throughout the galaxy."

"You have no right to interfere. This is the Hierarchy's concern and we will deal with it."

Sparatus smirked. "Is that so? And what about the cost, Primarch? We have already lost two dreadnoughts, three if Force of Justice cannot be fully repaired. How many are we going to throw away in pursuit of, yes, of what exactly? Revenge?"

"We can build new dreadnoughts. The yards are ready to start at a moment's notice."

That was true, as Sparatus knew very well. It was one of the -many- unintended consequences of the Treaty of Farixen. Curtailing the maximum number of dreadnoughts restricted the offensive capabilities of all races and prevented the start of an arms race. But one of the problems was that it meant that the shipyards capable of producing those dreadnoughts had very little to do once a species had built its allotted number of ships. Because dreadnoughts were, by far, the largest ships in space, yards that size were not required to build anything else. That left the government with an unpalatable choice. They could either stand down the yards completely, and effectively lose the ability to build new ships in a hurry if required; or they had to pay for the upkeep of the yards, and their workforce, even though they weren't doing anything useful. The Hierarchy, always mindful of their status as the premier military force in Citadel Space, had chosen the latter option and often used building slips designed for dreadnoughts to build their cruisers. It was inefficient and had contributed to the Hierarchy's precarious economic situation, but at least it meant that losses could be replaced quickly. Still...

"And who is going to pay for them, Primarch? I can tell you right now that neither the salarians nor the asari will contribute a single credit. As far as they are concerned the threat can be handled diplomatically, which is what the council is doing even as we speak. The Hierarchy is not all that popular these days, in case you hadn't noticed, and if we interfere in ongoing negotiations, well, I don't think we'll have many allies left. We can try to fight on our own, of course, and we might win, but I fear to contemplate what will be left of the Hierarchy by the time the war is over."

With some effort, Sparatus managed to moderate his tone to sound more conciliatory. While it might be amusing to drive the Primnarch to drink and have him die of liver failure, the Hierarchy had enough trouble already.

"Look, I understand why you approved of general Arterius plan. If it had succeeded it would have solved a lot of problems. But it failed and it's time to put an end to this war, the sooner the better, and it seems that diplomacy is the best route to achieve that."

"And what will be the cost of that, councillor?" the Primarch snarled. "We will look like fools! Worse, we'll look like weaklings."

"Perhaps," Sparatus conceded. "But what is the alternative? If we continue fighting and win, we'll be severely weakened and we'll look like war-mongers. We'll have no friends left and plenty of enemies, ready to pounce. And if we fight and lose... No, this war has to end, and it has to end now. Better to concede one mistake than to make another. Our defeat can be explained away. After all, it is not as though we committed the full might of the Hierarchy to this war. The rest can be blamed on individuals. One general Arterius comes to mind. After all, this war was his idea."

"And what about the future of the Hierarchy, Sparatus? How will we maintain our position as the protectors of Citadel space, if we sue for peace the moment things get tough?"

_He is listening_, Sparatus thought. Careful to hide any sign of triumph.

"The Hierarchy is not suing for peace, Primarch, the Citadel Council is. After all, that is the reason the Council exists in the first place."

"And so the Council gets the credit for making peace if it succeeds. Very well, Sparatus. You win. For the moment. I will wait for the results before I send ships through the relay. But remember: All the fame, all the blame. If the negotiations fail, the Council will have to answer for the consequences."

Without further notice, the Primarch broke the connection. Sparatus slumped forward, more relieved than he wanted to admit, even to himself. He'd completed his task successfully. Now it was up to the asari.

**-o-o-o-**

**Second Fleet, Outer system, near Relay 288**

In a single, blinding flash of light, five fleet carriers and their escorts came out of FTL in the outer reaches of the system. Within moments the ships started manoeuvring, moving into their designated positions. Aboard her flagship, admiral Drescher looked on with approval as the fleet shook itself out into formation. There had been little time to absorb the lessons that had been learned during the last engagement, but Second Fleet had done the best it could. With plenty of room to manoeuvre, there would be no need to close with the unknown aliens. Even so, Drescher had left nothing to chance. Each of her carriers would have a permanent escort of two rapid deployment vessels for close range protection. Her sixteen destroyers, employed in four groups would move ahead to act as outer area defence with the frigates deployed in a loose formation between them, ready to redeploy wherever they were needed. It was a flexible formation, but a complicated one, and Second Fleet had practised diligently during their voyage to be abe to put it into practice.  
Hopefully, it wouldn't be needed and her fighter wings would be able to neutralize the enemy, but against unknown ships it wouldn't pay to take any chances. Especially, when one of those ships was the biggest warship anyone had ever seen.

"All ships, this is Drescher. We've just entered the enemy's front yard. Time to walk up to the door and knock. Advance toward the relay and prepare to deploy fighters"

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

"Ma'am, they are here."

It didn't come as a great surprise. The STG vessel that had accompanied the turian fleet had passed through the relay on its return and warned her of the approach of the human fleet as well as its composition. Besides, her ships had picked up faint traces of reconnaissance drones, clearly operating under stealth, several days ago, indicating that the humans were scouting the system from a safe distance. Still, expecting something was not the same as watching it happen. Several of the observation platforms that she had seeded throughout the system were close enough to provide a detailed picture of the approaching fleet. As in earlier engagements, the humans had chosen to distribute their ships over multiple formations. There were five groups, each centered on one of the massive fighter-carriers, with independent groups of cruisers ranging ahead of them.

As the observation platforms gathered more and more data the Destiny Ascension received the first visual images. The human ships were as ugly as expected, crude, box-like vessels with no thought given to aesthetics. But the images showed something else as well. Many of the ships carried crude patches on their hulls, where repairs had been made in haste. The scars were a testimony to the history of the approaching fleet and an ugly reminder that of the two forces currently in-system, there was only one that was truly made up of veterans, who had already shown what they were capable of. It made them look like a pack of Varren: scarred, ugly, and deadly.

"Signal all units. Remind them, that NO-ONE makes a move without my permission. We have only one chance to get this right, so let's make sure we get it right. Now, open a channel to the human fleet and pray to the Goddess that they're willing to listen."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"Admiral, we're receiving an incoming transmission, audio only."

"Really?" Admiral Drescher shrugged. "Deploy the first strike wave. Have them keep station on their carriers until further notice."

"But ma'am, if they are willing to talk-"

"Then they'll have to wait until I'm ready, commander Singh. For all we know, they may be playing for time, or trying to distract us while they get a second force to move in under stealth. I will not be caught off-guard, just because E.T. is babbling at me. Now, do as I say."

**-o-o-o-**

**Outer system**

The presence of a fleet defending the mass relay did not come as a surprise to the hunters. It's composition was.

"Asari? Salarian? Where is the turian fleet? They would not abandon their position or relinquish their status as the Citadel's warriors."

"Unknown, leader. Wait! Intelligence update coming through the relay."

It was a calculated risk with asari and salarian ships so close to the relay, but yautja technology would beat that of even the salarians any day and their understanding of the relays and their many functions was far greater. Besides, with two fleets deploying for combat the system was filled with electronic noise. A single, ultra short transmission would almost certainly go unnoticed.

"Three messages. The Calypso mission was a success. A Kainde Amedha queen has been captured."_  
_

"Good. And the second?"

"A report from our agent in Citadel Space. She informs us that the Council has made a move. They have dispatched their Citadel Defense fleet to stop the humans from entering Citadel Space and open negotiations. They seek to end the war before the turians can recover."

The hunt leader snorted softly. "That could become a problem. Perhaps we should make sure that these negotiations fail."

"No, leader. The third message comes directly from the Adjudicators. We are to undertake no action, other than to observe, nothing that can alert either the humans or the Citadel races to our existence. They also wish to know if our mission was successful."

The unblooded sounded regretful. Although the mission had been entertaining, there had been a distinct lack of hunting opportunities. When they had found the lone serpent in the human vault he had briefly hoped to gain his mark, but circumstances had dictated differently and slicing off the arm of some unknown turian was not a deed worth mentioning.

"Very well. Upload a single transmission: 'Product recovered. Instructions understood. Will continue to observe.'"

The leader made a small gesture. "Who knows, between asari duplicity and human intransigence, they may fail even without our interference."

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

"I repeat, this is matriarch Lidanya aboard the Destiny Ascension. I am here on behalf of the Citadel Council to open negotiations. Do you understand me? Please respond."

"Ma'am, they are launching fighters."

Lidanya closed her eyes for a moment. It seemed like her nightmare was about to come true.

"How many?"

"Two-, Two hundred and rising ma'am."

"Goddess help us all. Keep broadcasting my message." _Come on you fools, don't do this. We won't get another chance to make peace._

"Enemy fighter count holding steady at five hundred, ma'am."

Lidanya looked at the displays. By now there was a massive cloud of fighters around the human warships. She had studied the surviving turian sensor records. If the humans stuck to the same doctrine, at least a third of these would be armed with nuclear-tipped missiles. Two for each fighter. Moreover, if they had managed to replenish their fighter complements there would be at least another hundred fighters embarked. There was simply no way she could hope to stop them from getting into engagement range of her fleet. All her ships combined could barely put one-hundred-and-fifty fighters in space, not nearly enough. Point defence would thin out the missile salvos, but some would inevitably get through, and although the Destiny Ascension was the toughest warship in space, she wasn't invulnerable. Unlike earlier engagements with the turians, the humans had absolutely no reason to come within range of her weapons. They could keep the distance open indefinitely, sending in strike after strike until either Lidanya's fleet was gone, or they ran out of fighters. They could even leave the system if they felt like it, resupply, and then come back for another attack.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"First strike fully deployed, ma'am. All units are ready to go on your command,"

Drescher was impressed. Less than ten minutes and each carrier had put a hundred fighters into space. That was nearly twice as fast as peacetime regulations required.

"Excellent. Now, let's hear what our new acquaintances have to say for themselves."

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

"Receiving incoming message!"

"On screen!"

There was no visual signal, only a voice, distorted by the translation routines. "Hold for Second Fleet."

For a handful of seconds, that seemed like hours, nothing happened, then the signal changed, showing a heavily distorted image. It wavered as computer systems on both sides of the contact procedure tried to adjust simultaneously, then the image steadied and cleared up.

Lidanya had seen the records, but even so, it still came as a shock: Other than the pale, pink-whitish skin-tone the creature confronting her could have been an asari. She was dressed in a protective suit and helmet that covered the top of the head, hiding the one part where the two species were clearly distinct. Behind her, Lidanya could see what was clearly the command deck of a warship at battle stations.

"Second Fleet, admiral Drescher speaking. Whoever you are, you are between my force and its objective. I recommend that you leave."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**Regarding the Hierarchy's shipyards: The Washington and London navy treaties were a severe blow to the British military shipbuilding industry. They had to stop building ships to comply with the treaty, so they had to close the yards. By the time WW2 started they no longer had the capacity to build a lot of big ships quickly. Even worse, they lacked the skilled labor pool as people had moved to other jobs. The Hierarchy has chosen to keep the yards open, but that costs a fortune. **

**Apparuerit Diabolo et Loqui****: I'm treating Alien 3 as canon, but not 4. In my version, during/after the events of 2 and 3 there were several xenomorph outbreaks thanks to corporations trying to study them (as seen in the video games). In the scandal that followed the military intervened. Figure about 10 years or so of unrest and the result was a relatively strong central government and the power of the corporations greatly reduced (This is actually the semi-cannon background story for the period between 3 and 4.) In my universe, 4 is never going to happen because long before that time they run into the turians and history changes. Ripley is dead, of course (she might have died of old age by now anyway). I don't intend to bring her back. Alien 4 messed that up enough as it is.  
**


	33. Can we talk?

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Destiny Ascension**

"Whoever you are, you are between my force and its objective. I recommend that you leave."

The words, impersonal and without genuine inflexion because of the imperfect translation software, echoed over the bridge.

_Well, at least they are talking_. Lidanya took a deep breath and activated the communication link again.

"Admiral... Drescher," The name was strange but pronounceable. "The Citadel Council does not desire war, but I cannot allow you to take control of this relay or enter Citadel Space. The strategic implications are too serious. If you proceed on your present course, I will have no choice but to engage your ships. You may think you can win that battle, you may even be right; but no matter what happens here, today, if you choose to engage the Citadel Defense Fleet, the Asari republics and the Salarian Union will be forced to enter the conflict and your people will end up fighting every government in Citadel Space. No matter how that war ends, it would be a tragedy that we should all try to avoid."

A few seconds passed as the signal made its way back and forth between the two fleets.

"Avoiding a tragedy, is that why you are here? This war has been going on for months! If either you or your Citadel Council had wanted to avoid a tragedy, you should have started sooner. Preferably, BEFORE your turian friends invaded us."

The accusation was hardly unexpected. Unfortunately, telling the truth was not an option. The last thing Lidanya wanted to do was admit just how limited the council's power actually was.

"Admiral, things simply happened too quickly. By the time the council was notified of the turian invasion plans, it was too late. The invasion fleet had already been dispatched. But, whatever has happened in the past, we are here, now. We can prevent further bloodshed."

"Prevent further bloodshed, really? How noble." The interactive software handling the translation seemed to be adapting to human speech patterns because even through the interface, a bit of the mocking tone came through. "Tell me, do you have any idea how much blood has been shed already."

"No, but I do know that-"

"Neither do I."

"- adding to it will serve no-"

Clearly, the human had not waited to hear out Lidanya's message, because her answer cut halfway through it.

"And the reason that I don't know is that we are still digging the corpses of our people out from under the rubble of their homes. The last time I checked the total death toll stood at twenty-three thousand four hundred and seventy-six. That does not include the more than one hundred fifty thousand that are still missing. Many of whom will probably never be found because they were blown to pieces by orbital bombardment. I'm not sure if the phrase: 'too little, too late' has any meaning in your language, but it applies perfectly in ours. The reality is that your precious council was perfectly willing to stand by and let the turians destroy us. Only now things have changed, haven't they? Your turian friends are running for their lives and suddenly the council wants to make peace. How very convenient."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

Drescher felt the eyes of her staff on her as she drew breath and made a conscious effort to calm down. As satisfying as it was to call the alien on her hypocrisy, it wouldn't do to appear as though she was losing control. This time it took a while before the blue-purplish skinned alien answered her.

"I understand your feelings, but does that not make it more imperative to put an end to this war before it spills out of control? I can assure you that, as tragic as your losses are today, they are nothing compared to what will occur in the future unless the war stops here and now. This war should never have occurred, but it did. That doesn't mean that it has to continue."

Drescher looked around her. "'This war should never have occurred.' Is she for real?"

She activated her communications again.

"With all due respect, matriarch, we're not talking about an earthquake or a volcano here. Wars don't just occur. They are started, by people, for reasons. Apparently, your turian friends think they have good reason to fight and I know of nothing that could have changed that perception. So, even if I take you at your word. Even if I choose to believe that you are sincere and that you aren't just playing for time. How can you, a third party in this conflict, guarantee an end to hostilities? What's to stop the turians from attacking us again a week or a month from now? No, better to finish things once and for all, rather than sit around and wait for that to happen."

"But you will not finish it, admiral, at least not quickly. The Hierarchy is far too powerful for that, and I very much doubt you have any idea of the combined strength of the council races, which is what you will face if you force me to engage your fleet. As to your question, I can assure you no-one wanted this war. Not the Citadel Council, not even the Hierarchy. I don't know what caused the initial fighting. I have seen the turian reports, but there is no way to tell for sure until we have examined your records of events as well. All I know is that somehow the first contact ended in a battle, which escalated. Unfortunately, neither occurrence is without precedent. First contacts are always dangerous. Usually, hostilities can be limited to a single exchange, before common sense prevails. This time, events spun out of control, but whatever you may think people have been working to stop things from getting worse. Even the invasion of your colony, unforgivable as it may seem to you, was intended as a means to end the war. The Hierarchy hoped that you would open negotiations once they occupied the planet. I don't deny that it was a bad idea, but that doesn't mean the sentiment behind it was wrong."

"Admiral," commander Singh spoke up. "whether we believe her or not, she has a point. There is no way we can win this war quickly, and god only knows what happens if we lose. Can we pass up an opportunity to put an end to it?"

"If that is what this is." Drescher shrugged. "Even if she's sincere; even if she actually believes everything she is saying; can we be sure that she can deliver on her promises? Nothing I've seen so far would indicate that those turians will stop fighting, simply because someone else tells them to." She sighed. "Alright, let's see if she has an answer to that question."

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension  
**

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Lidanya allowed herself to relax a tiny fraction. The danger was far from over, but the human commander was still talking and the conversation seemed to be going in the right direction. Explaining the intricacies of interstellar politics would take a lot of time, especially considering all the things she should avoid to mention, but that was fine. In fact, the longer it took, the better.

"Admiral, as I stated before, the Hierarchy didn't want to go to war in the first place. They have nothing to gain and everything to lose, especially now that you have proven how dangerous such a war would be." _Flattery couldn't hurt_ "Furthermore, the Hierarchy is subject to Council oversight, like every government in Citadel Space. I will not deny that their pride has been hurt by their recent defeat, but they will not act to break a truce that has been negotiated by a diplomatic envoy appointed by the Council."_ Let's hope that is true. If councillor Sparatus fails to convince the Primarch they might actually do it and that will be the end of galactic peace; perhaps even the end of the Council. _ "Such an envoy is waiting at the other end of the relay connection until I give the signal. All I need is a guarantee that you will not initiate hostilities."

"And then what?" The human countered. "You may have an envoy waiting, but I don't. I am not empowered to negotiate on behalf of the Alliance of United Systems. That is a job for diplomats and politicians, civilians. My authority is limited to military operations as specified by my orders, and those orders are to secure the relay."

Lidanya cursed softly. It was always the small things that messed up the biggest plans. General Oraka had shared his data on human society with her, but it had been confusing and, in many ways, contradictory. That was not uncommon. An alien civilisation always appeared strange to an outsider, especially when you saw data without proper context. One of the things that had stood out was the sheer convoluted-ness of their government structure, which seemed to be an utter mess of different branches with overlapping responsibilities. Now one simple thing became clear. The human military and civilian leadership were separate organisations, which meant that while soldiers could fight a war, they couldn't end it.

"It seems our orders are designed to bring us into conflict. My orders are to keep you from reaching the relay. But the people who wrote our orders aren't here. We are. If you cannot negotiate, what can you do? Surely you have some authority as to when you do or do not fight."

Seconds went by, each seemingly interminable.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

There was a part, a very large part, of admiral Drescher's mind that could not quite believe she was actually considering this. She was here to kill aliens, not make peace. _It would be so simple, just give the order and send in the strike force. All it takes is one shot and then we can all go back to doing what we do best: killing. Your orders are clear: secure that relay. No-one can blame you for shooting your way through an alien fleet, any alien fleet, to do just that. After all, you've warned them. If they don't want to die, they can just pack up and leave.  
_Unfortunately, whoever had written those orders had not taken this situation into account. The United Systems Military had learned of additional species and the existence of this Citadel Council through interrogation of turian prisoners. The general assumption had been that the other species would either join the turians in their war effort or stay out of it altogether. A peacekeeping force had not been expected. And the alien did have a point, as did commander Singh for that matter. If she could end the war, permanently, what would that be worth? Strictly speaking, it would be a violation of her orders, but then again, she had not been authorised to start a war with several other species either.

The admiral took a deep breath. "I can declare a cease-fire. I do have that authority. No hostile actions to be initiated for a limited period of time. But I will need guarantees, strong guarantees that you and the turians will hold up your end of the bargain.

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

Lidanya permitted herself to relax a bit further. _Another obstacle removed. Now, how to do this?_

"Admiral, my position here is purely defensive. There is no way I can reach your ships unless you allow me to do so, but neither can you reach the relay without coming within my effective range. I would suggest that we both hold our current positions until your government has been notified. Even if the Hierarchy sends a force through the relay, I will be between you and them. That gives me the chance to call them off, and it gives you the time to take whatever measure you deem necessary. I don't know how long it will take for you to receive new instructions, but as long as neither of us does anything foolish, we should be able to keep the situation under control until then. Meanwhile, I can report to the Council that we have agreed to suspend hostilities. That will make it easier for my superiors to ensure that no further hostile action is taken by the Hierarchy."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"Well, now what?"

"Admiral," commander Singh spoke up again. "We cannot ignore this opportunity-"

"And what if it is a trick?" lieutenant Mikhailovich, one of the staff officers, asked. "What if this tentacle-headed smurf is just stalling until the turians can reinforce her? We may end up facing overwhelming odds."

"Which we can simply avoid," Singh countered. "She is right about that. There is no way for her, or anyone coming through the relay to get within attack range unless we let them. If the odds are too much against us we can simply leave the system."

"And lose our best chance to seize this relay," Drescher commented sourly. "Still, how much of a loss is that in the long run? One way or another, we're not going to reach the damn relay without a fight, either against blue-chick over there, the turians, or both of them. Even if we win here, it will cost us. Our current strength and supply situation would only allow for limited deployment through the relay, even under ideal circumstances. If I weigh that against the possibility to end this war..." She shook her head. "It isn't worth it. Recall the fighters, I'll inform my new BFF"

She turned back to the monitor.

"Alright, we'll do it your way, for now. Make sure you keep your ships as far away from mine as possible, though. The last thing we need is another incident." She paused for a moment. IN general, it seemed a bad idea to reveal her capabilities, but the existence of FTL communication buoys was hardly a secret. "I can send an FTL message directly to our nearby colony. They will transmit it through their relay to our government. After that, it will be up to the politicians, but I would expect to receive an answer within a few days. I suppose we can all ignore each other politely for that long. Unless you happen to have a deck of cards...?"

The alien's confused look made her smile briefly.

"Never mind." Something occurred to her. "Actually, now that we're all just waiting, there is something we can do: You said you had seen the turian report of the first encounter. I've seen our own records. Let's see what actually happened."

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

"Human fighters are returning to their motherships, ma'am. I think... I think you've done it."

Lidanya nodded. It had been close, far too close, but it looked like no-one would have to die, at least not today.  
She considered the human's suggestion. It seemed reasonable enough. If some unknown species started shooting at her, she'd certainly wish to find out why. Still, she'd have to be careful. It was bound to be a sensitive topic and the last thing she wanted was to anger the human commander. She re-activated the communication channel.

"You have to understand, that my knowledge on this subject is limited. The turian officers that were present at the original contact are still in the Hierarchy, so all I have to go on is a second-hand report. Still, from what I understand, the turian patrol encountered your ships as they approached a dormant relay in one of the nearby star systems. You have no way to be aware of this, but we have very strict regulations regarding such relays..."

**o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"Wait! What?" Admiral Drescher could no longer control herself as she listened with growing disbelieve while the alien went on and on about laws, rules, conventions, and relays. "Let me get this straight: They didn't want us to touch the relay? That what this is all about? Thousands dead, a planet in ruins, just because some trigger-happy fool wanted to keep us from activating a bloody relay. And all of that for a law that is supposed to prevent wars? What did that moron think was going to happen when he opened fire? Besides-" A sense of terrible irony came over her. "Lady, I have news for you. We opened that relay a few days ago. All we can see on the other side is a bunch of empty star systems.

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**A/N **

**Your brains: Never leave home without them. It's nice to write about reasonable people. **

**I've also updated my parallel story 'Intelligence reports' again. I had those two chapters finished a long time ago, but I felt it was too early to release them.**

**The death toll is much higher than in canon. Frankly, that number (623) never made sense. Just a few destroyed ships would have accounted for that, never mind orbital bombardment. Drescher is overestimating, though. Many of the missing people have just fled into the countryside and it will take some time to locate them all.  
**

**Drescher is a bit over the top here, but it always bothered me that in canon no-one called the council on their delays. They stood by for months before interfering. Either they didn't know what was happening, which makes them idiots, or they were ok with what the turians were doing as long as it didn't backfire. Of course, in my version, they actually had a reason for the delay, but Drescher doesn't know that.**


	34. Was it worth it?

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Geneva, Earth**

"You're kidding me."

"No," Spears smiled briefly. "Our people questioned the prisoners on Shanxi as soon as Drescher's message came in and confirmed the story. The turian patrol saw Auriga approach the relay and moved in to stop us from activating the relay."

"But it makes no sense," Harper shook his head in disbelief. "Let's say they are telling the truth: A long time ago they opened the wrong relay, stumbled across a bunch of bugs, who, by the way, sound suspiciously like another species that we are both aware of, and it led to war. OK, fine. Then they decide that they don't want to risk it happening again and I can understand that. But now we get to the weird part. They make it illegal to open new relays, pretty much calling a stop to exploration. How does that help? If there is an aggressive species on the other side of a relay, they will be coming out sooner or later, in which case this bunch would meet them anyway. All their law achieves is delaying the inevitable. Then we have the actual incident. Some overeager cop sees our ships, moves in to enforce a law that we haven't heard about, could not possibly have heard about; and how does he do that? By shooting at our ships! To enforce a law that is supposed to prevent wars, they took an action guaranteed to start a war."

"It certainly looks that way, yes. We cannot be quite sure what went wrong, of course. All we have is captain Jankowski's after-action report, which is probably at least a little self-serving. We'll need access to the turian records to make sure of the details. Frankly, I'm inclined to believe that it was all a mistake. These things happen, Harper. When you have two military forces close together, things can go wrong. Human history is littered with examples of people opening fire at the wrong time, on the wrong target. Hell, according to legend, that's how King Arthur got killed. Two armies close together, some fool of a knight draws his sword to kill a snake, someone else thinks he is about to attack and decides to strike first, the battle starts, and Arthur ends up buying the big one. Usually, it happens when people are scared or confused. They see something that looks threatening and it starts preying on their minds. Sooner or later they overreact and the shooting starts." Spears shrugged. "It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. In any case, that's water under the bridge. Leave the past to the historians. We need to focus on the future."

"Then you want to accept their offer of a truce?"

"Can we afford not to? Let's be honest, Harper. We're in a tough spot. We still don't know precisely what we're fighting here. So far we've done well, but it is quite possible that even these turians alone can simply plough us under with sheer numbers. Throw in several more species and the odds don't look too good."

"Isn't that all the more reason to strike now, while we still have the advantage. It seems to me that Drescher may have wasted an opportunity for a decisive victory here."

Spears' eyes grew very cold. "Another senior officer to be sacrificed to our agenda, Harper? Don't even think about it. I gave you Williams, but Drescher is a different story altogether. Right now she is pretty much the biggest hero we have. Williams may agree to forego a court-martial and resign, but Drescher would insist on having her day in court. And then we will have to answer the question why we are blaming the military while ignoring the culpability of the politicians. I suggest that that is not a press conference either of us wants to attend. Besides, I think she took the right decision. You may not realise it, but we have a big material problem just waiting to explode in our faces."

"Material?" Harper's voice was sharp. "I thought production was already spinning up."

"It is, but it will still take time and with the military cutbacks of the last twenty years... We currently have eleven carriers in service. Five of those are with Drescher, two at Arcturus, and two here, in earth orbit. The other two are in dock for upgrades. That leaves us with almost no reserve if anything happens to Second Fleet, and we're not building new carriers, yet. Even with my new plenipotentiary powers, I cannot casually spend that much money without going through the oversight committee. We're doing better with destroyers. Plenty of those were mothballed and are being reactivated, assuming we can find crews for them. Most of our naval reservists work on freighters. The more we recall, the more we disrupt the economy, just when we need it the most. But that is not the worst problem."

He waited a moment for Harper to interrupt, but the latter remained silent.

"It's the small stuff. We had to strip Arcturus of fighters to compensate Drescher's losses after Shanxi. Then we basically stripped Earth to replenish Arcturus. We are building new fighters, but that still takes time and training pilots takes years. Again, we are calling up reserves, but they need refresher courses, which also takes time. On top of that, we're running out of disposable ordnance, especially tactical nukes. Shanxi proved that we need those nuclear-tipped missiles to make our fighter effective against large naval vessels, and we're pretty much out of those."

Harper nodded. "That makes sense. Tactical nuclear stockpiles were always a controversial topic. The politicians would have taken every opportunity to reduce them as much as possible. But surely we can produce more of them, quickly."

"You'd think that, right? No, the problem is that we stopped producing them decades ago. The production lines aren't just closed, they've been dismantled, the blueprints stored away. It will take months just to reconfigure our factories to be able to produce the missiles at all, then the new production models have to be tested and certified before we can send them into action. The warheads will take even longer. Until we have that sorted out, our carrier groups will be of limited use. We can fight maybe two or three more battles, but then we have to fall back and hope that they won't come after us before production had been restored."

"So, we should quit while we're still ahead?"

"I think we should seriously consider it. Right now, we're golden. We can negotiate from a position of strength. Who knows when we might get another opportunity?"

"I see your point, of course, but we may face trouble at home. We've hyped up the war effort to get the people behind us, and to get them to push for our reforms. What happens if the war just ends?"

Spears sighed. "It's a concern, yes. But I don't think it will be that big a problem. Remember, we won; we've defended humanity. And the aliens will still be out there. A threat, against whom we have to arm ourselves. I think that will be enough. If we fight the war and lose, it won't matter anyway."

"That's true, I suppose. Between your popularity with the masses, and D'Orsinio working the General Assembly, we can spin things that way. Peace with honour, so to speak. Alright, assuming we do this: How are we going to go about it?

"First we need to send a message to Drescher ASAP. Signed by the United Systems government. We tell her that we approve of her actions and that a negotiating team is on its way. Second, we need to select a negotiator. A lot of them actually. We'll need all the expertise we can find. Any suggestions?"

Harper though for a moment.

"Actually, that's a bit of an issue. With the fading of nation states as true political entities, the whole concept of foreign policy has started to disappear. We don't really have diplomats anymore, and I'd prefer not to send a politician. We don't want to give the Assembly control over the negotiations. Still, we need someone capable of making deals; someone, who knows how to get the best deal and sell it." He took out a tablet and started searching. "What was her name? Goyle, that's it. Anita Goyle."

Spears looked confused. "Who?"

"You wouldn't remember her. She's a freelance corporate negotiator. Two years ago she settled a series of labour disputes on Thedus and the surrounding colonies. It never made the news, but we were a lot closer to civil war than anyone would like to admit. By the time she was done, I think both parties had forgotten what the dispute was about and would have agreed to anything just to put an end to the whole mess. Tough as nails and smart. The type who knows exactly how far she can go, without pushing the other party over the edge. Plus, she has her own staff, ready to go. It will save us weeks of selection processes."

"And you think she'd be available for this job?"

"You must be joking! This will arguably be the greatest negotiation challenge in human history. There is no way she'll turn it down."

"Then I suggest we contact her at once. Meanwhile, I'll speak with D'Orsinio, inform him of the change in circumstances and get to work on that message for Drescher."

**-o-o-o-**

**Shanxi, POW camp  
**

"General Williams, this is a surprise."

Desolas Arterius had changed little, at least to human eyes. In a way, it was a disappointment. Williams had insisted that he should meet the turian commander one more time. The only condition he had made, in exchange for resigning quietly rather than facing a court martial. It had been a tough decision to make, but in the end he had little choice. He could see the way the wind was blowing. The military was in the ascendant and nothing was allowed to blemish their record. The man who had surrendered his command to aliens was an embarrassment, best forgotten as soon as possible. It was not the way he had expected his career to end, but the messenger that Spears had sent made it more than clear that the alternative would be worse. Still, he had wanted to face his nemesis one more time, in the hope that it would give him some closure.

"Not a general. Not anymore."

"Really?"

"I just resigned. Took responsibility for my failure, so to speak."

"I see." The turians words sounded thoughtful, even through the translation software. "It seems that in the end, we are not so different after all."

"Perhaps not," Williams conceded. "I presume that you have heard the news?"

"News? Ah, yes, the great and noble Citadel Council has spoken and the Hierarchy has jumped to obey." The turian made a strange sound that Williamss had come to recognize as laughter. "Your people should be proud. You have achieved something that no other species has achieved. You have fought against the Hierarchy and come out of it without being defeated."

"And that's supposed to be a source of pride? Tens of thousands dead, and in the end, both sides are back where they started. It just doesn't seem worthwhile."

"Perhaps not. In any case, I suppose that this will be our last encounter. I expect that I'll be going home soon, where I, too, will have to answer for my failures."

Williams shook his head. "I wouldn't be too sure of that, general Arterius. In fact, I doubt you'll go home for a very long time, if ever."

For the first time, the turian's composure seemed shaken. "And why is that?"

"There is still the matter of a number of destroyed villages to be discussed. I warned you at the time, remember, that that kind of retaliation strike would have consequences. As it turns out, you were right too. We never had the opportunity to bombard a few of your worlds, but we have the next best thing. We have the perpetrators: You, and your men."

"And you think your people will put me on trial?" Desolas laughed again. "I doubt that sincerely. The Primarch would never stand for it."

"Ah, but the Primarch isn't here. Besides, I doubt you have much credit with him right now. He might not wish to be assoiciated with someone who is not only a failure, but a criminal as well. Good luck, general Arterius. I think you'll need it."

Without another word, Williams left the room.

**-o-o-o-**

**Destiny Ascension**

"They have agreed. A negotiation team will be sent to meet us here."

Lidanya nodded. "Thank you, admiral. I will inform the council. Meanwhile, our own envoy will be joining us. I suspect that she will make transit through the relay within the hour."

It had been nearly a week, a week of waiting and of carefully worded exchanges, while the two fleets had watched each other from a distance and each side wondered if the other would be the first to break the truce and open fire; and Lidanya felt that she had aged a century over that time. But it seemed as though the truce would hold. Of course, it would still take a lot of time and effort to establish a lasting peace, but that was not her responsibility. From now on, politicians and diplomats would take over. She wished them the best of luck.

**-o-o-o-**

**The Citadel  
**

"I just received word from Matriarch Benezia. She is about to transit through the relay for some preliminary talks with the human fleet commander while they await the arrival of the human negotiator." Tevos smiled. "We have done it."

"Have we?" Sparatus stared into his drink. He had been morose ever since news of the cease-fire arrived.

"Of course! Clearly, the humans have as little desire for continued war as we. There will be a price to pay, of course, but peace is worth it and it's the Council that has brought peace. Do you understand what that means, Sparatus? For the first time in centuries, this Council can point at its achievements and justly say: We did, what no-one else could. This may well be the beginning of a new era."

"And the end of an old one." Sparatus drank deeply, then looked up. "I did my part, because it had to be done, Tevos. Because it was my duty as councillor. That doesn't mean I have to enjoy watching my people humiliated. Because that's what this is: humiliating. And the Hierarchy won't forget. As much as we may have achieved in the last few days, I think there is still a lot more trouble ahead. The galaxy has changed. Now everything will be different. That may be good for the three of us, but there are others out there who will be less than pleased and they will say to themselves: if the galaxy can change once, it can change again. Those are the ones we should watch out for."

**-o-o-o-**

**HNV Force of Justice**

"Matriarch Benezia has arrived safely. We are informed that we can abandon our current position and return to Aephus."

General Oraka looked around the meeting room. Most of the officers present refused to meet his eyes. He could understand their behaviour. The war was over, and they had lost. No matter how the politicians would spin it later, the truth was that they had lost. Only a few months ago no-one would have even considered the possibility. the Hierarchy had never lost a war. In fact, it was considered a fact of life that the only ones capable of defeating turians were other turians. That reputation had been shattered and it was they, the people in this room, who had presided over the defeat. Of course, much of the blame could be assigned to Desolas Arterius, who had initiated the invasion, but Arterius wasn't present to take responsibility. In fact, he might very well be dead. Besides, it was the battle in space that had decided the course of events; and Arterius had not been involved in that. No, it was the officers in this room, who had to take responsibility; if not for starting the ill-fated campaign, then for the way it ended, and that had to start with Oraka himself. It was the principle on which the meritocracy was based. The person in charge always had to accept responsibility. Circumstances might mitigate the blame, they couldn't erase it.

"It was the distance," captain Hastian said slowly. "If we hadn't been so far from home. If we'd been able to resupply and call for reinforcements the moment we understood what we were dealing with-"

"No, it wasn't the distance, it was the waiting! We should have pushed through the relay ourselves, at once. Instead, we just sat around and let them build up their strength."

"Nonsense, that wouldn't have worked! We should have built up our strength more-"

The voices were getting louder, shouting each other down. Perhaps there was a need for this discussion. Certainly, in the future, the Hierarchy would need to study the recent events and determine how they could prevent them from occurring again, but this was neither the time nor the place and Oraka simply couldn't deal with it.

"Enough!" Oraka's voice cut through the argument. "It doesn't matter what it was. It's when someone wakes up in the morning and says 'I have an idea! Let's play war!' That's when everybody dies."

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**Oraka's remark at the end is actually a quote from 'A bridge too far.' Gene Hackman speaks more or less that line.**

**Strategic stockpiles of disposable ordnance are always a big problem, especially because you can not store explosives, or rocket fuel, forever; so the stockpiles need to be replenished. When Britain wanted to use Vulcan bombers again the Falklands, they found that they had less than a hundred standard bombs available for them, many of them dating back to World War 2. Similarly, production figures for modern anti-tank missiles are often so low, that a lot of countries would run out of missiles before their enemies ran out of tanks. In wars of the past this wasn't such a big problem because weapons could be built very quickly, but with complicated modern weapons, it's not that simple. **


	35. Diplomacy, part 1

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Destiny Ascension, seven weeks after final hostilities**

"Thank you, Matriarch, your time and effort have been most appreciated. I believe we have made some real progress today."

With a distinctly insincere smile, Anita Goyle rose from her chair. The Asari sitting opposite from her at the table did likewise, smiling graciously and, most likely, equally insincerely. Ambassador Goyle kept the smile pasted on her face until her shuttle had departed from the alien dreadnought. Then she leant back and started cursing, softly and viciously.

"That stupid, condescending, blue-skinned BITCH! If I have to hear ONE more patronising word about peace, prosperity, and all the benefits of her precious FUCKING galactic civilisation, I'm going to ram her teeth down her throat so hard she'll be shitting them out by tomorrow morning. Just who the hell does she think she's talking to?"

She paused, but no-one among her delegation, many of whom had known her for years, seemed willing to answer that particular question. Goyle was normally an even-tempered person, an absolute necessity for a negotiator, but the past month had stressed that temper to the breaking point.

"It's alright guys," she continued more calmly. "The danger is past. I just needed to vent that."

It had seemed so beautiful when they had started out. The first diplomatic exchange between humans and aliens; and she would be spearheading the effort. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Unfortunately, reality had failed to live up to her expectations. They had been talking for over a month now and were no closer to an acceptable resolution than when they started. Worse, it wasn't just that they couldn't reach a compromise, it seemed like there was no compromise to be reached.  
When general Spears and the Assembly had requested that she take point in the negotiations, they had supplied her with a long list of issues that needed to be addressed and none of them had been dealt with. It was like negotiating with quicksand. Perhaps it was a problem with the translation software, perhaps it was due to the alien mind of her opposite number, but no matter what they were discussing, she couldn't get down to business. Irrespective of the subject, Matriarch Benezia always managed to direct the flow of conversation to what seemed to be her favourite subject in the universe: Galactic Society, and humanity's future place in it. At first, Anita had been willing to go along with it. It was certainly an interesting subject that needed to be discussed. But it was also a long-term issue that would not be resolved in a month or even a year. In fact, she was convinced that it was an issue that would sort itself out over time as humans and aliens interacted. It didn't need to be planned and historians could debate it after the fact. Speculating in advance, while interesting, was ultimately unproductive. Meanwhile, the things that needed to be resolved remained in limbo. Every time Anita brought up a specific point, the asari handwaved it and referred to the way the affairs of existing citadel species were conducted, as though that would automatically apply to humanity as well.

"Alright, anyone, suggestions?"

No-one spoke up. Most suggestions had been made, tried, and ultimately discarded.

"That's what I thought. As soon as we're back aboard Yamato, inform Ms. Vickers that I want to see her asap. It's time we tried a different approach.

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato**

"You've seen the transcripts?"

Vickers nodded. "I have."

"And?"

"You have a problem."

Anita snorted "I know I have a problem. You don't need to tell me that. The questions are A) What is the problem? And B) How do we solve it? Do you think it's just because they're aliens?"

"No." Vickers shook her head slowly. "They may be alien, but they can be dealt with; they can be reasoned with. It's something else. When I look at the transcripts, it's almost like..."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm seeing two different conversations. You're having one, the asari has another. Not because she is an alien, but because her priorities are so far removed from yours that she might as well be sitting in a different room. You're talking about short term concerns. Peace terms, demilitarised zones, reparations, prisoner exchange. She barely acknowledges that those points exist. It's as though in her mind those things have already been settled and she's moved on to the next stage and, frankly, she seems to have worked that out too. She keeps talking as though integrating humanity into their Citadel Space is a forgone conclusion and all we need to do is work out the details of that process."

"And you disagree?"

Vickers laughed. "Ma'am ambassador, a celluloid dog chasing an asbestos cat through hell is a lot more likely to succeed than these aliens are to get either general Spears or the General Assembly to agree to relinquish sovereignty to any non-human organisation."

"Right. Good. I had the same impressions of our friendly neighbourhood matriarch, but it's good to have it confirmed. That brings me to the next point. How do I get her off her hobbyhorse and down to business. We need to finish this peace treaty. Everything else can wait. She doesn't seem to grasp the consequences of dragging this out. Or perhaps she just cannot imagine that she'll fail. After all, how could we possibly fail to jump at this marvellous chance to join the great galactic community, to experience its wonders, it's freedom, it's whatever... God, I swear I've heard more superlatives in the past month than in the ten years before that."

"She does favour flowery language."

"And then some. Unfortunately, behind all the empty speeches there is a will like steel. Frankly, I don't think she is going to move from her position. She's so convinced of her superiority, no, of the inevitability that her vision will come true, I might as well be talking to the walls. And from what I understand, this is someone who's the better part of a thousand years old. That's a long time to entrench your opinions. I don't think she'll change them before I die of old age."

She sighed.

"Okay, that's enough self-pity. Benezia won't budge. So, we have to try a different approach." Anita activated her tablet and called up an image. "I've kept you away from the negotiations, so far, because I didn't know how they would react to your presence after the events aboard Calypso. I think it's time to change that. Here, take a look. That's a picture taken by of our security cameras during an earlier session"

Vickers turned the tablet around and studied the image.

"Wait, is that...?"

"Yes, one of the asari you met aboard Calypso; the one who seemed to be in charge. We compared the image to data from the helmet cameras of lieutenant Anderson and his squad. They resemble us enough that human facial recognition software works on them. We have a better than 95 percent certainty that it's the same individual. And it makes sense for them to have her be part of the negotiation team. After all, she has the closest thing to previous experience when it comes to dealing with humans. Anyway, she has been sitting on the sidelines during the negotiations. Doesn't say much, at least in public. We're still alternating the venue for the negotiations each day, so tomorrow the negotiations will take place here, aboard Yamato. It won't be that difficult for you to run into her 'by accident' and renew the acquaintance."

"I see. You want to open a back channel."

"Exactly. Whatever her precise status, she has access to the private discussions of Benezia's team. Even if she cannot convince Benezia to stop building castles in the air, perhaps she can get into contact with the people behind Benezia."

"This Citadel Council." Vickers nodded. "I can try. Besides, it might be interesting to go over events with her, now that we'll actually be able to talk. Just for the record, exactly how close do you want me to get? I've read that codex they send us and some of the information on these blue ladies is, eh, interesting."

"Interesting? That's one way to put it. I'm still not sure how much to believe. But to answer your question: do whatever you have to. Just make sure she's convinced that we're serious. The longer this takes, the more likely that some fool back home will do something stupid. Speaking of which, I just received a message from Shanxi. Three guesses what they're up to."

**-o-o-o-**

**USM Yamato, the next day  
**

One more day, one more round of talks, and they still weren't getting anywhere. Matriarch Benezia was becoming increasingly frustrated with the human negotiator, who insisted on dwelling on minor details and temporary situations, instead of focussing on the bigger picture. Unfortunately, captain Shiana Armali had a strong suspicion that Benezia wasn't the only one getting frustrated. Human faces were fairly easy to read thanks to having a musculature that resembled an asari's to a degree that would undoubtedly intrigue xeno-biologists all over the galaxy. By now, the face of the human negotiator had started to show signs of strain, as though she was permanently tensing those muscles, a clear sign of stress, and, unless Shiana was sadly mistaken, a sign of annoyance. That was not good. With both the Citadel Council and the human government too far away for practical direct contact, the negotiators had rather more authority than would normally be the case, and with both of them reaching the end of their patience, a potential disaster was not too far away.

Meanwhile, Shiana herself had been relegated to an 'advisory role', which around Matriarch Benezia seemed to consist primarily of listening silently while the Matriarch spoke and agreeing with whatever the Matriarch said. For Shiana it had been a powerful reminder as to why she had never had the least interest in becoming a Matriarch's acolyte. It wasn't so bad when the negotiations took place aboard the Destiny Ascension, where she had the freedom of the ship. On the days that they met aboard the human vessel she was restricted to the conference room, or like now, one of the adjacent rooms that were used for private conversation, in-between the negotiation sessions. Private, at least if you didn't count the camera's and listening devices that the humans undoubtedly maintained.

The door to the compartment opened. Shiana didn't bother looking up, expecting another member of the delegation, until an alien voice spoke up, followed almost seamlessly by the translation.

"Excuse me, but I believe we've met before."

It took Shiana a moment to make the connection. Although it was a ridiculous cliche that all aliens looked alike, it could still be difficult to distinguish between them unless you knew what you were looking for. In this particular case, the difference in attire didn't help. The human standing at the entrance was dressed in a featureless grey suit. Whereas before-  
Shiana felt her eyes widen in shock. She remembered a blue-on-black environment suit with a large, transparent helmet; the same face, with the yellowish hair tied back-

"I believe that is a yes," the woman continued with a brief smile. "We didn't meet under the best of circumstances. Though, considering the alternative I think we did a good job making first contact."

"Yes, on the whole, it seems we did quite well. Especially, considering the circumstances." Shiana hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "I was not aware you were on board this ship. Did you arrive recently, or..."

"No." The woman shook her head, a gesture Shiana had learned to interpret as a sign of denial. "Ambassador Goyle brought me along when she came here. I've been advising during private sessions. Seeing how things worked out, we didn't know how your people would react to my presence. The situation is complicated enough as it is."

"That's true." She hesitated again.

"Do you mind if I join you for a while? When I realised that you were here, I had hoped to eh, renew our acquaintance. Perhaps discuss the events. It would be very interesting to hear things from your perspective."

"Of course!" Shiana relaxed. This would not be nearly as awkward as she had feared and it was good to finally have an opportunity to talk to a human in an informal setting. Besides, she herself was curious about the events surrounding their previous meeting.

"Where would you like to start?"

**-o-o-o-**

"... which is where we ran into that..., that thing."

"The xenomorph."

It was as though somebody had thrown a switch. The conversation had been going well, with both of them being able to laugh at the awkwardness of Shiana's boarding party while they tried to understand the human ship; and the image of the USM Anzio, blinking its navigation lights in sequences of prime numbers in the hope of establishing communication, while the crew of Light of Dawn tried to figure out why anyone would introduce mathematics during first-contact. But suddenly, the human's demeanour changed.

"I have been wondering," Shiana proceeded cautiously. "How did those things come to be on board the ship? Where did they come from?"

"A mistake," Vickers said. "We made a mistake."

She fell silent for a moment, then, "I apologise. I didn't mean be rude. But that is not a good subject. Let's just say that we found them by accident, we thought we could control them, and we were wrong. Not just aboard that one ship, but in a lot of places. The results were disastrous, and a lot of people died. I cannot say much more about them. Basically, the entire story is classified."

"Are there any more of them?"

"No. Not was far as I know. There certainly aren't supposed to be. Though, if you, or anyone really, ever comes across them again. Just run. Run as fast as you can, and contact us. We learned a lot of lessons the hard way. It would be a shame if you had to learn them all over again." She grimaced. "Assuming, of course, that by then we will actually have a peace treaty signed."

There was a long silence.

"I'm sure," Shiana began carefully. "that we will be able to come to an agreement soon enough. If only-"

"Are you? I wish I shared your confidence." She sighed. "Shiana -May I call you that?- I have to be honest here. We are beginning to get the impression that these talks are a waste of time. We have been talking for over a month and we are no further now than when we started. Perhaps it is a cultural thing. Perhaps we just don't understand each other well enough. But some people are beginning to suspect that we're being played with. That Matriarch Benezia is stalling for time. That she is keeping us occupied while the turians prepare a new offensive."

"What?!" Shiana was honestly shocked. Shocked, and suddenly very afraid. It was one thing to suspect the humans of increasing impatience, but if this kind of rumour started to go around, the effect could be disastrous. "I can assure you that-"

"Please," Vickers raise a hand. "I'm not the one you need to convince. It's the people back home. From their perspective, it doesn't look good. Everyone is still hyped up because of the war. The military is recruiting everywhere, the arms industry is working overtime. Everyone is on edge. We have to show them that we're actually getting somewhere."

"I understand," Shiana said slowly. "I really do. But you have to see past recent events. Yes, mistakes were made, terrible mistakes. But it doesn't have to be that way in the future. Our species, all of our species can live together, be friends even. The citadel has proved that for thousands of years. That is what Matriarch Benezia is working for. To help your species integrate into the galactic community."

"By joining the Citadel?" Vickers shook her head. "Shiana, that's never going to happen. Even if we'd made a peaceful first contact, I'm not sure if that would have worked. Frankly, I'm not even sure the United Systems can legally subvert themselves to an outside government. That possibility was never considered when we drew up our government charter. Besides, the idea of accepting that your Citadel Council, an organisation in which we have no representation, would have ultimate authority over us, that is completely unacceptable. As things stand, after being attacked by surprise, without provocation-"

"What the turians were trying to do-"

"Yes, yes, they didn't want us to open the relay. I know. In a way, I can even understand. We opened Pandora's box ourselves, once-"

She stopped at Shiana's confused look. "Never mind, just an expression. Suffice it to say, that I do understand the sentiment behind that law, even if the execution was appalling. But that is not the point. It's not about the incident at the relay. That can be explained away as the mistake. It's about the invasion. That was a deliberate act, a matter of policy. The turian Hierarchy has proved, beyond any doubt, that we cannot trust them, that they are willing to use military force to impose their will on us. And the way the invasion was conducted..."  
She shrugged. "Perhaps it's better that you know, but there has been a development at Shanxi. One that could seriously influence these peace talks."

"What is it?"

"The local government of Shanxi has decided to put general Desolas Arterius on trial for war crimes. Specifically, the use of orbital bombardment, a weapon of mass destruction, against civilian targets in retaliatory strikes."

"But..." Shiana tried to make sense of what she had just heard. "You cannot do that. Using orbital bombardment is part of Hierarchy military policy. It may be extreme, but he had the legal right to use it."

"Not according to our laws." Vickers' voice had suddenly turned very cold, even through the translation software. "And since these crimes were committed in our jurisdiction, it's our laws that will be applied. Make no mistake about it. By his own admission, he was in charge of the force that committed these actions. That alone is enough to convict him."

"And if he is convicted, what will happen next?"

"Death. For mass murder on this scale, there can be no other punishment. The only way to avoid it is if the Hierarchy petitions to have him extradited. But that is impossible without a treaty in place. And that's not all."

"What... What else is there? I mean, what else can there be? This will destroy the peace process!"

"Perhaps, but with people losing faith in the negotiations, I doubt anyone will care. Especially on Shanxi. In any case, depending on how things go from here, this may only be the beginning. General Arterius may have been in charge, but he wasn't acting alone. Everyone in the chain of command can be charged as accomplishes. The commanders on the ground that called in the bombardments, the staff officers that passed on the orders, the captains of the ships that fired. Even the gunners who pushed the final buttons. All played their part, all contributed. We have a lot of these people as prisoners."

"But they had no choice; they had to obey orders."

"Not under our laws. And, again, it's our laws that apply. Shiana..." Vickers suddenly sounded almost as though she was pleading for understanding. "We used to be like that. We used to think that obeying orders absolved a person from guilt and responsibility. And the results were gruesome. Humans have committed atrocities against each other that make that idiot Arterius look like a naughty child. That's why we changed the laws. Now we hold everyone accountable. That way, when a general gives an illegal order, his soldiers at least have reason to think twice before they carry them out."

"An illegal order?" Shiana was still trying to make sense of what she was hearing. The whole concept seemed insane, and, perhaps for the first time in her life, she began to realise just how alien the thoughts of another species could be. "How can that possibly work. How can you even define what constitutes an 'illegal' order? How would the soldiers know which order to obey?"

"In practice? The side that wins will tell them after the war is over." Vickers shook her head. "Sorry, it isn't a joking matter. There actually are rules for this, even though they tend to be convoluted and often contradictory. The bottom-line is, these things have been set in motion. Unless we come up with a peace-treaty real soon, the number of people involved will only grow and I don't think there is any chance of a lasting peace if we end up executing scores of turian prisoners."

She rose from her seat. "I'm sorry I had to bear bad news, but I thought it better that you knew. Perhaps you can make Matriarch Benezia see that she's running out of time. This idea she has, of humans happily joining the Citadel? That's pure wishful thinking. It's time she started dealing with the real world."

**!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!**

**I'm updating quickly now. For one thing, parts of these chapters were written a long time ago, so I just need to polish them. Also, I just got ME Andromeda, so I want to get back to slaughtering aliens myself, instead of just writing about it. It's been over a year since I played ME multiplayer and muscle memory is mostly gone, so I need a lot of practice.  
**

**So, the characters from my previous story 'someone has heard the scream' are finally able to talk to each other. Not sure how far it will go, but hey, if you want to imagine Vickers (so, basically Charlize Theron) making out with a hot, blue alien; by all means, go ahead.  
**

**In reality, a war crimes trial would take a lot longer to arrange, but then again, remember the first Starship Troopers movie: "A murderer was caught this morning and tried today. Sentence: GUILTY. Execution at 6PM, mandatory viewing on all channels" Or words to that effect.  
**

**Don't worry, humans are not joining the Citadel anytime soon. That wouldn't make much sense. Between increasing human xenophobia (honestly, even under the best circumstances that would be a major problem) and the recent war, the best either party can hope for is an end to open hostility. In time, trade and diplomatic exchanges may improve the relationship; but that will take decades. Meanwhile, Spears and Harper are slowly pushing Earth toward a military dictatorship conform Starship Troopers and they are certainly not going to give up their newfound power. Of course, everybody forgot to tell Benezia, who probably wouldn't have listened anyway.**


	36. Diplomacy, part 2

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Destiny Ascension**

"Nonsense." Benezia's voice was gentle, chiding, but Shiana thought she was hearing an underlying strain.

"Matriarch, this woman, Vickers, was very insistent. It seems the humans are even more upset than we thought. And if their laws are really this strict, they may have no choice in the matter."

"No choice? No government would allow itself to be put in such a position. No, they are trying to put pressure on us. I don't believe for a moment that this person met you by accident. They probably think that they can force us to hurry and make additional concessions, just to prevent them from carrying out their threat. No, we will not be played so easily."

"But what if they're not?" Shiana tried again. Not for the first time, she was beginning to sympathize with the human negotiators. Whether their position was correct or not, it had to be intensely frustrating to have your words just bounce off without making any impact. "Even if they just want to give us a warning, once they start these proceedings there may be no way back. Their own people may insist that the execution be carried out. They may end up killing general Arterius, no matter whether they intended to."

"My dear, they wouldn't dare. I'm sure their government is becoming frustrated by the lack of progress, but they only have themselves to blame. They should have selected a representative with vision. This Goyle, is so obsessed with the past that she cannot see the future. Still, if this person you spoke with really has a direct connection to their government, we may be able to use it. Surely by now, the humans must realize they've made a poor selection with their chief delegate. Perhaps we can persuade them to replace her with someone more forward-thinking."

**-o-o-o-**

Shiana sat in her quarters and thought for a very long time. If Benezia was right, she was allowing the humans to manipulate her. Well, not completely. She didn't believe her encounter with Meredith Vickers had been coincidental anymore than Benezia did. Clearly, someone was trying to send a message, but what was the message and who was it for? If they were trying to put pressure on Benezia, they had clearly failed. The Matriarch would not deviate from her course. But then again, the humans were not stupid. By now they must have gained at least some insight into Benezia's character. What if their message was for someone else, someone farther away? What if, like Benezia, they thought that some changes needed to be made at the negotiation table?  
If so, that put Shiana on the spot. She had been attached to the delegation because of her successful previous contact with the humans, but that position was purely advisory. She wasn't a diplomat or a negotiator. Who was she to question Matriarch Benezia's judgment?  
_Benezia is a racist _She remembered Liara T'Soni's brutal indictment of her own mother. Granted, the girl had been half drunk, and mother-daughter relationships could be a complicated thing. Still, the judgment of a close relative could not be casually disregarded. Especially, since the rest of her predictions seemed to have been spot-on. What if her own assessment was right? What if the humans were willing to carry through with their threat? Sure, they were using it as a message, but that didn't mean that they weren't deadly serious. After all, it would be tough to call their bluff, if they weren't bluffing at all. If so, the consequences could be terrible. The Hierarchy might accept the execution of general Arterius as the cost of doing business. After all, the general had made a terrible mess of things. But the rest? Punishing other officers and soldiers for carrying out his orders? That could not be allowed to happen. Obedience was a fundamental aspect of the Hierarchy's structure. They would never allow anyone to undermine that.  
Shiana rubbed her face in an attempt to relieve her headache. Tomorrow the negotiations would be aboard the Destiny Ascension. If she wanted to speak with Vickers again, it would be up to her to arrange it this time. And she needed to have another conversation. Most of all, she needed information. Information on human law and information on their government structure. Not just the offical story, but the way it worked in practice. After all, the asari republics weren't quite as democratic as they claimed to be either.

* * *

**Geneva, Earth, three days later  
**

Assemblyman D'Orsinio put down the message he'd been reading "So, Goyle's prediction was right. No change in their position at all. They aren't listening."

"At least the leader of their negotiation team isn't." Spear shrugged. "Goyle may be looking for excuses because of her lack of progress, but, according to her, it's primarily this Benezia who is stonewalling everything. Either way, we need to send a message. We'll not let them call our bluff. Tell Shanxi to go ahead. Trial, verdict, appeal, execution. But make sure they understand that it all depends on the aliens. If we get a treaty hammered out before they're finished, they have to let Arterius go."

D'Orsinio laughed. "That'll light a fire under them! Those people are out for blood. They'll hold the quickest war crime tribunal in human history."

"Good. That way we'll all understand each other. So, what is the news from the Assembly?"

"On the whole, quite good. Not that they like it, of course, but your remarks regarding public opinion were well taken. They understand that some changes need to be made."

Spears raised an eyebrow. "Some?"

"Some. You cannot have it all your own way, general. Still, I think you will approve of the end result. I should add, though, that it does depend on these negotiations. There can be no question of joining this 'Citadel' of theirs. The Assembly is very clear on that."

"Even if they offer us a seat on their council?"

"Even then." D'Orsinio stood up and walked over to the window. In the distance, he could see the Assembly building. "You will have your permanent seat on the General Assembly, general. But the Assembly itself will never accept the superior authority of any other organization. No matter who sits on it."

"Fair enough. It was never really an option anyway. But that leaves us to decide how we want to proceed, now that we know we have neighbours. Goyle has sent me a comprehensive list of all the things that they want to force on us, as well as her own recommendations. We cannot just reject everything. So, we need to pick the ones that we can give in on."

"Such as?"

"Well, let's see." Spear activated his tablet and opened a document. "We cannot let these special operatives, these SPECTRES anywhere near the United Systems. Have you heard about them?"

"I heard something," D'Orsinio snorted. "Wasn't sure what to believe. Do they actually have a bunch of legally sanctioned loose cannons running around with a license to kill?"

"Apparently so. I had to read it twice, but they really have a blank mandate. Can go wherever they want, do whatever they want, kill whomever they want, all in the name of galactic peace."

"Completely insane. How would that even work? If a cop sees a SPECTRE commit murder, is he just to let it happen?"

"Yes, no interference." Spears shrugged. "It gets even weirder: What if a SPECTRE tries to kill you? Are you supposed to stand still and let it happen, or do you have the right to fight back? If you do, and you kill the SPECTRE, then what? Is that legal self-defence? These aliens seem to have some rather weird ideas about law. It's as though each law is separate, and never tested against the others. That's how we got into this mess: They have one law concerning opening these mass relays, and another regarding first contact. Their commander on the scene had to pick which law he was going to obey. Speaking of which, they are rather paranoid about opening these relays. To be honest, I think we can accommodate them on that subject."

"Really? What about our own expansion. These freaks divided the galaxy between them long before they met us. We're going to need to make room for ourselves."

"And we will." Spears opened a starmap. "Take a look. This new relay, the one where it all started. It links to an area called the SKyllian Verge. It's explored, but not colonized. Plenty of room for us. Plus, it will give us access to another area, one they call the Attican Traverse. That one forms a buffer between the Citadel species and an area known as the Terminus, which is basically a lawless mess. Again, plenty of Lebensraum. Besides, we have a major advantage: From what we've learned, they never developed proper terraforming. No need I suppose, because they could travel through the relays and have their pick of the best planets. They probably have the theory, but never bothered putting it into practice. Our atmospheric processors are far more efficient than anything they seem to have operational. That will give us a lot of extra real estate."

"Alright," D'Orsinio nodded. "So, we claim this... this SKyllian Verge right away, move in, and settle every rock we can find."

"Yes. The sooner the better. This is something we're good at. We can collect all the FTL haulers we have and start towing colonization modules into that area. Give it five years and we'll be all over the place. Meanwhile, we keep the stretch of space between Shanxi and the citadel species empty, as a buffer zone. We'll insist that nobody builds anything permanent in there, especially nothing military. Which brings me to the next point. They have a naval treaty in place, call it the Treaty of Farixen. We don't have all the details yet, but from what I understand it is supposed to limit the number of large naval vessels."

"Didn't we try something like that ourselves? Back in the Twentieth Century?"

"Yes, and it didn't work at all. Crippled the people willing to keep the treaty while giving a huge advantage to the rest. Still, we have to discuss it sooner or later. We don't want any part of their precious council, but neither do we need to start an arms race. Now, I don't want to limit our military presence, but there may be a way around..."

The discussion continued for several hours.

* * *

**The Presidium, the Citadel**

"So that is the situation." Sparatus stared at his communication screen. He had spoken more with Fedorian over the past few months than he had in the ten years before that and, somewhat to his surprise the two of them had established a reasonably good working relationship.

"And you don't think they are bluffing?" It was more a statement than a question.

"No. Matriarch Benezia thinks they are. In fact, she never even let us know about this, and she seems intent on ignoring it. But I cannot imagine this is a bluff. To make such a threat and then not carry through would make them look like fools. They may not want to carry it out, but I think we have to assume they are willing to execute him. Which means that we have to decide what to do."

"What do you suggest?"

"That we should do nothing." Sparatus wasn't quite happy with his own conclusion, but there were more important matters to consider than his own conscience. "After all, this entire military adventure was general Arterius' idea. Whatever we may think of these human laws, they are not wrong when they say that he is responsible for much of this mess, and especially for the unnecessary deaths. Very well then, let him be responsible. In a way, it strengthens our position. After all, if the humans convict him, if they publicly state that he gave the orders for the bombardments, they themselves admit that it is Arterius, personally, not the Hierarchy, that is responsible for those deaths. They cannot have it both ways."

"Arterius made mistakes, Arterius pays the price. That is what you're saying."

"Yes."

"Very well." The Primarch nodded. "If they sentence him, I will lodge a protest with the council, and they can repeat it to the humans. But that will be all. But only if it ends here. We cannot let them kill any other prisoners. Make sure the other councilors understand that. I don't care what they have to do. Replace Benezia if necessary. Whatever it takes, get these negotiations moving again!"

* * *

**Two weeks later**

_"This is Breena Lakovski for Westerlund News. We have just received news from Shanxi that General Desolas Arterius, the commander of the turian invasion force has been convicted on multiple counts of war crimes and sentenced to death by firing squad. As yet we don't know when the sentence will be carried out, but sources in the government say 'soon'. Meanwhile, several members of the General Assembly have expressed their concerns that these events may influence the ongoing negotiation process. for more news..."_

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**I wonder of there is a turian word for scapegoat.**

**About twenty years ago, a Dutch businessman was arrested in Singapore with a suitcase full of heroin. He was sentenced to death and eventually that sentence was carried out. Afterwards, a story circulated that they never wanted to do that. It was suggested that the sentence was just to look tough on drugs, but that they expected the Dutch government to make a plea for leniency, giving them a way out. Basically, they wanted to have their cake and eat it. That never happened because the Dutch refuced to interfere and they had no choice but to carry through. Both governments faced a backlash. If it's true that it was all a bluff (it was never proven) I wonder who was bluffing, and who called it. Maybe both sides bluffed and screwed up.  
**


	37. Bargains

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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**Presidium, the Citadel**

_This is Tavea I'Seni of Citadel News Network. We have just received news that the newly discovered species, the humans, have returned the body of general Desolas Arterius. General Arterius, who commanded the turian forces involved in what the Hierarchy calls 'the Relay 314 incident' surrendered to the humans after being left stranded on their colony. We are informed that the humans considered some of his actions during the conflict to be crimes against them. They have provided the Citadel Council with transcripts of legal proceedings against general Arterius, which led to his conviction and him being sentenced to death, a sentence which has now been carried out. So far, neither the Council, nor the Hierarchy, has commented on this new development. However, experts in turian politics expect a strong response from the Primarch, which may even include renewed hostilities_

"No! Tevos, we cannot give up now. All I need is more time. If we accept the human conditions, it'll mean the end of everything we've worked for. They'll just walk away from the Citadel and galactic civilization." Benezia's rage was palpable, even over the FTL communication link. For councillor Tevos, it was highly disconcerting to see the normally so controlled Matriarch breaking down like this.

"I understand that, Matriarch Benezia, but what is the alternative? The humans have put us on notice that they can continue these legal proceedings against other prisoners as well."

"They wouldn't dare! You've said it yourself. The Hierarch will resume the war if they do, and I told that so-called negotiator of theirs the same."

"And did she believe you? Or for that matter, do they even care? No, I'm sorry. I truly am. I understand what you have been trying to achieve, but we're out of time."

It was a flaw in asari psychology. Thanks to their long lives, they were willing and able to focus on the long term, to see the big picture. Unfortunately, most other races didn't have that advantage and it could create a blind spot for asari diplomats where they simply couldn't understand why other species wouldn't listen to reason. For the same reason they couldn't understand the impatience of other species as negotiations dragged on for months, or even years. Tevos had encountered this problem before, but it was rather disappointing to find that Benezia of all people would fall into this particular trap.  
In many ways, her negotiating position had been sound. In the long run, fully incorporating the humans into galactic civilization would save a lot of grieve. But that was if you thought in centuries or even millennia. According to the documentation that they had received even a century qualified as three or four human generations. Nobody planned that far ahead. And Benezia should have known that and adjusted. They could not expect to accomplish this process in one large step. It would have to wait for future human generations who could gradually adjust to the new reality.

"No," she repeated. "I truly am sorry, but we cannot risk it. Better a flawed peace, then no peace at all. I must ask you to give up on getting them to join the Citadel."

For a moment it seemed as though Benezia would continue to argue, but she managed to regain a measure of control.

"I see. Very well, Tevos, if that is what the Council wants, that is what I will do. But you're making a tragic mistake. I can only pray that it will not be all of civlization that pays the price for it."

**-o-o-o-**

**Geneva, Eart**

The room was large and contained a big conference table. Around it sat a wide variety of people, both military and civilian. All knew exactly why they were there. The future of humanity would be decided in this room. Apart from assemblyman d'Orsinio, none were elected, but that didn't matter. Not here, not today.

"So that's the latest report from our negotiator," General Spears concluded his presentation. "Goyle has already dealt with the SPECTRE issue. They are out. No access. We find any in our territory, they go down hard. If they really need to be there, they'll have to request access through channels and they'll be accompanied at all times. However, that leaves a lot of open issues that we have to decide on. I have Ms. Goyle's recommendations here, but I didn't want to sign off on anything before we had a chance to discuss it. Some of these matters are well outside my area of expertise. The economy for example. What are we going to do about trade?"

Jack Harper turned to the man sitting beside him. His exact background was not entirely clear, but Harper had introduced him as a financial expert.

"Mr Lawson?"

Lawson pursed his lips. "We cannot just open our markets. The Citadel species are an established economy, saturated by their own manufacturing. Breaking in will take time and care. If we're not careful, we'll end up like a Third World country. Supplying basic materials and buying the finished product, all the while paying for the added value. That's the absolute worst economic situation you can have."

"So we keep our markets closed?" Spears asked.

Lawson shook his head. "Not closed, just protected. We slap a heavy import tax on everything from non-human origin. If they try to buy stock in human companies, we'll block the sale on 'security' grounds."

"And they'll do the same."

"Perhaps they will, general, but that doesn't matter. The gain from exporting to them would not offset the potential loss. Besides, it doesn't have to be forever. A decade from now we can re-evaluate."

"Fair enough." Spears turned back to the projection screen. "Next point. What about this AI ban of theirs? According to Goyle they still whine about getting aboard our ships just to check."

"No way in hell," one of the naval officers snarled. "We're not letting them aboard our warships."

"Agreed, but we can show them samples of our computers. From the sound of it, I think they're talking about a human in a Virtual Reality rig, the way we use them for electronic warfare. We can show them a civilian version. It raises an interesting question though. If it really is possible to create AI, why did we never do it? Even those big central computers that used to run our ships when the crew was in cryo were only a simulation of intelligence."

One of the technical experts, who wore the Weyland-Yutani logo on her suit, raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"I suspect it's a difference in design philosophy. We design our computers, both hard- and software, to be regularly upgraded or replaced. From what I've seen so far, they don't. Their computers are meant to last decades, all the while improving themselves. That requires sophisticated learning algorithms. I suspect that that is the source of their problems." The engineer frowned. "It's an interesting idea, though. I know they keep harping about the dangers, but honestly, why would an AI be hostile? It's no real competition for humans. It doesn't even require the same resources. A human and an AI could share a house neither even knowing the other was there. Besides, if the worst happens, all you need to do is jank the power. Problem solved. I don't think we should just give up on this right away."

Several of the military personnel looked as though wanted to hear more, but Spears cut the discussion short.

"Perhaps not, but that is for later concern. Meanwhile, we need to discuss the biggest problem: naval strength. We cannot compromise our security in any way. Not now. The situation is still far too volatile. Unfortunately, the aliens have a treaty in place amongst themselves that is supposed to stop military build-ups like the one we're planning. This Treaty of Farixen is a problem, but I believe we may be able to put it to good use. We can turn it into a big concession that we'll give them, in exchange for their ceding the SKyllian Verge to us. The question is, what kind of status are we willing to accept? Captain Hackett, if you would care to describe the situation?"

Captain Hackett, recently promoted after being injured during the battle of Shanxi stood up.

"Basically all this treaty does, is regulate the number of large warships, dreadnoughts only actually because these aliens never built dedicated carriers. According to the treaty, there are three levels: At the top are the turians, who can build as many as they want. Below them are the two other council species, the asari and the salarians, who can build three for every five turian dreadnoughts. Below them are the so-called associate species, which are allowed only one for every five turian ships. Now we don't fit into any of these categories, but apparently, they are rather insistent that we sign some form of it."

"Not surprising," Spears mused. "The last thing they would want is to set a precedent of someone violating that treaty. The moment they allowed that, everybody would start complaining. Besides, this is apparently something that this Citadel Council sees as their personal accomplishment. Refusing would be something like a slap in the face."

"And we're already doing that with those SPECTRES," D'Orsinio said. "Not that I disagree on that, but can we give them something on this subject to compensate."

Spears smiled. "Actually, I believe we can. Captain, what has the navy decided?"

"We give them a choice, sir. If they agree to exempt our carriers, or put them into a new category, we'll sign the treaty and agree to a 5:3 balance with the turians. The same as the other council species. If carriers count as dreadnoughts, we'll only settle for parity."

"Will 5:3 be enough?" Harper asked. "They'll start building carriers too, you know."

"Probably, but that doesn't matter." Hacket shrugged. "I doubt we can catch up with them anyway and the navy doesn't want to try. Building that many capital ships that quickly would be too costly. No, Mr. Harper treaties like this always favour the new navy. The old established one gets stuck with a bunch of old ships that it needs to scrap before building new ones. In any case, we don't need to build many dreadnoughts. Or any even. We already have a plan to improve our carriers, so that we won't face the same situation that we had at Shanxi. And strategically they are far better at projecting force. Besides, there are ways around these kinds of restrictions."

"What, like pocket battleships?"

"Hardly." Captain Hackett smiled briefly, crinkling the new scar on his face. "As much as they have been admired over the years, from a military point of view, pocket battleships were a failure. Keep in mind that only one nation ever built them, and then only because they had to. The moment they were out from under the restrictions, they started building proper warships. No, they were ingenious, certainly, but in the end, it didn't work. Too weak for the line of battle, too slow to manoeuvre against smaller ships, overmatched when confronted with multiple opponents. The only thing they did well was commerce raiding and for that, there are cheaper solutions. No, we are considering a scaled-up destroyer. Not so big that it'll qualify as a dreadnought, but bigger than their cruisers. We can keep the armour the same, but give them bigger engines and one hell of a punch."

"You're talking battlecruisers," someone remarked. "I always thought they were an even bigger failure."

"Only because people kept using them as battleships. That was madness. We want them to screen our carriers, protect them from other warships. I've seen the latest reports. Our techs have taken one of the turian wrecks apart and found their shield generators. Looks like we'll be able to reverse engineer them. That'll give us improved shielding for protection. It won't last in a protracted fight, but it'll be enough for short engagements. That's all we need. What's even better, we have the design studies already in place. The navy never had the money to build ships like that, but circumstances have changed."

"They have indeed," Spears nodded. "Don't worry captain, the navy will have its ships."

There were grins all around the table as officers dreamed of their new toys and the corporate representatives dreamed of how much profit they would make on them.

"Good. Now, let's continue."

**-o-o-o-**

**Presidium, the Citadel**

"The Verge? They want the entire Verge? And you want to give it to them?" Councillor Sparatus stared at his colleagues.

"Indeed," Councillor Milnori smiled briefly. "Why not, Sparatus? We're not using it ourselves, so, by all means, give it to the humans. Unless you want them to start opening mass relays wherever they find them."

"Of course not! The last thing we need is them ignoring that law again. Not after we went to war over it. But have you two forgotten WHY the Verge is not being settled? The Hegemony has already staked a claim."

"Yes," Tevos was smiling too. A very, very cold smile. "They have. And then they did nothing with it. Not a single batarian colony to be found. That's not staking a claim, Sparatus. That's wishful thinking. I can stake a claim on the Andromeda galaxy and you can give it to me, but what value is that. No, the Hegemony had its chance. Too bad they failed to make use of it. Instead, they are going to have new neighbours. Because I sincerely doubt that humans will be equally lazy."

"And in turn," Milnori continued. "Not only will the humans sign the treaty of Farixen, which will allow us to give them an embassy on the CItadel despite their refusal to accept our authority, but they will also agree not to open any more mass relays without involving us. In other words, your Primarch can inform the Hierarchy that his little war was a success. Despite everything that's happened, the Hierarchy has successfully upheld Citadel law. Everyone wins."

"Except the Hegemony." Sparatus sat down slowly. "What do you think they will do? Just accept this with good grace?"

"Of course not," Tevos sighed. "That would be too much to ask, but then again, the words 'Hegemony' and 'good grace' don't really belong in the same sentence anyway. What can they do, Sparatus? They can protest, which they will, but no-one will support them. After all, they only have themselves to blame for leaving their 'area of interest' uncolonized. Meanwhile, they'll have to deal with the humans. I wish them all joy of each other."

Sparatus suppressed a mild shudder. He had always been aware that, despite their gentle manners, asari could be utterly ruthless. Still, it was a bit disconcerting to hear Tevos dismiss the potential for open warfare between batarians and humans so casually and he wondered if she fully understood the ramifications of her decision. Still, it was a tempting proposition. The immediate benefits would be considerable; it would direct the humans away from Citadel space; and, who knew, the humans might just fix the whole batarian problem for them. They had already demonstrated considerable military prowess, as well as the willingness to use it. Meanwhile, the vaunted military might of the Hegemony was, by and large, a joke. Most of it was no better than a big, poorly trained, poorly equipped mob. Dangerous, yes, but in the long run, a proper military force would destroy them.

"Alright," he said. "I see your point, though I'm not sure I entirely agree. We'll do it this way, but I want an extra concession. We won't count these human carriers as dreadnoughts, but that leaves us with a problem. They represent an unbalancing influence on the treaty of Farixen. So, how about this: we add a clause to the treaty: Each species may build as many carriers as dreadnoughts. That shouldn't inconvenience the humans too much, but we'll still keep our edge and at the same time stop a potential new arms race."

Milnori nodded sharply. "An excellent suggestion."

"And one we can probably sell to the humans. Especially if we don't argue too much about the reparations," Tevos said.

"ANd what about the ban on AIs. We cannot let them ignore that either."

"Human reaction there was interesting," Milnori answered. "They seem to think we're joking. It seems they have no AI, not on purpose, not by accident. Yes," He continued before Sparatus could interrupt. "I've seen the reports. Our negotiators discussed this with the human delegation. They assure us no AI was involved and promised a demonstration of their computers to clear up the confusion."

"If we can believe them," Sparatus said sourly. "Without oversight, or SPECTRE access they can do as they please and we may all feel the consequences."

"Perhaps," Tevos conceded. "But there is little we can do about that. At least as long as they don't publicly flout our laws on this subject we can tell the public that we're doing our job. Right now, it seems that is the best we can expect."

"The best we can expect." Sparatus' mandibles flared in a turian sigh. "I suppose it is. Things seem to be going smoothly at last, but we're putting our names to a treaty here. I just hope it will not come back to haunt us."

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**According to the wiki, signing the treaty of Farixen was mandatory for anyone who wants to open an embassy, so it seemed reasonable that the United Systems would have to make a concession there. Of course, they are already planning a way around it and when they eventually build dreadnoughts... Hehe, oops. No spoilers.**

**The economy: Aberron explains this in far more detail in _'Living an indoctrinated dream'_. You encounter the same problem when playing economy based strategy games****like Caesar, or Children of the Nile. An economy that sells raw material and buys the end product back is doomed because somebody else is earning all the profits  
**

**Pocket battleships were a marvel of ingenuity, but despite all the hype they never achieved much. For commerce raiding, they were hopelessly overpowered, and they had no real place in naval battles.**

**The new destroyers are actually more like USA's Alaska class large cruisers. They are meant to be escorts, not capital ships. In the game, Cerberus cruisers are about 30 percent bigger than normal navy ships, so these ships will be my in-universe equivalent.**

**Kardikek: The humans don't really know anything about turian ethics yet. Besides, even if they've been told, it's one thing to get information, another to really understand how another culture works and what the consequences are. And yes, people on Shanxi would probably have bene very upset if they lost their chance at justice. That's why Spears gave them a warning: Kill Arterius quickly, or you'll lose your chance. As for the council. The list they've submitted is basically what would apply if humanity joined the citadel. That's not going to happen, but Spears wants peace. So, he's willing to give in on as many points as he can. On the plus side, they get the main benefit of being a citadel species, (diplomatic access) without actually becoming part of it, as well as claiming a considerable area for colonization.  
**


	38. An end, and a beginning

**Mass Effect is the property of Bioware. 20th Century Fox owns the Alien/Predator franchise.**

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_This is_ _Tavea I'Seni of Citadel News Network, and we are currently in the Council's meeting chamber, where the human delegation has just arrived. In a few moments, the representative of the Alliance of United Systems, Anita Goyle, will formally sign the peace treaty that will bring the war between the humans and the turian Hierarchy to a conclusion. Ater months of negotiations, we are informed that the Alliance of United Systems has declined to join the other species of Citadel Space at this time. However, they will open an embassy, and sources tell us that representative Goyle will, in fact, remain here on the Citadel to become humanity's first ambassador. The details of the treaty will be published once it has been formally signed, but we have been informed that the humans have agreed to abide by a modified version of the Treaty of Farixen, as well as the prohibitions against AI research and the unauthorized opening of mass relays. In a brief statement that was released earlier today, the turian Hierarchy expressed its satisfaction at the conclusion of the brief conflict saying: "Many lives were lost, but they were not lost in vain. These brave soldiers died to ensure that the laws of Citadel Space will be upheld, now, and in the future."_

Anita Goyle signed her name with a flourish that she had been practising for days. The aliens had been astonished when she insisted on a paper version of the treaty, but they had readily agreed. After all, what did they care about humanity's quaint little customs? An electronic version, containing holographic images and voice recordings of the signatories would be stored in the Citadel archives. That was the important thing, as far as they were concerned.

As she straightened, her eyes met those of Matriarch Benezia, who was standing amongst the delegates. She was smiling graciously, as always, but Anita had gotten better at reading alien faces. Some people present were quite happy with the current agreement. Others, not so much. But Benezia? she was furious! With Anita personally, with humans in general, with the Council. Anita made a personal note to keep track of the asari. She would have to be watched.

**-o-o-o-**

_This is Westerlund news, bringing you the FIRST EVER report from the Citadel, I am Breena Lakovski. The peace treaty between the turian Hierarchy and the Alliance of United Systems has just been signed, in what government officials call the greatest milestone in human diplomacy since the Egyptian and Hittite empires signed the first ever peace treaty in 1259 BC. Not everyone seems to approve, as many people doubt the wisdom of making peace with the aliens at all or assert that the United Systems should have demanded steeper terms. However, both government officials and Assembly members have applauded the treaty. Assemblyman d'Orsinio went on record to say that "We have already shown the galaxy that we are strong, that we can fight. Now it is time to show that we can be reasonable. To prove that we can be friends as well as enemies."  
_

_Meanwhile, the General Assembly announced today that they will grant the newly created rank of Skymarshal to the USM Chief of Staff, general Thomas Spears. This rank will make general Spears a permanent member of the General Assembly, with full voting rights. In a brief press conference, general Spears assured the public that he would use his new position to continue his work to safeguard humanity. This would include an increased defence budget to continue the recruitment drive and the military build-up that started during the war. As the general himself said: "We have only just realized that the universe is a far more complicated and dangerous place than we previously thought. It is good that we have peace, but as an ancient philosopher once said, 'Si vis pacem, para bellum.' 'Those that want peace should always be prepared for war' and our policies should always reflect that."_

**-o-o-o-**

**Unknown planet**

The Adjudicators had gathered to discuss the latest news.

"So, they made peace."

"For the moment, yes."

"That may have unfortunate consequences," The first speaker said. "If they warn the Citadel Species about the serpents..."

"Unlikely. Most of the useful information is strictly controlled, the rest is just stories. Besides, they may have made peace, but that doesn't mean they are friends. We may have another war before long. According to our agent, there are terms to the treaty that have not yet been made public."

"Such as?"

"The humans will claim the area they call the SKyllian Verge for colonization."

"Wait!" A third speaker interrupted. "Was that not...?

"The Hegemony's area of interest? Yes, but then so is the rest of the Universe, according to the batarians."

"So the Council is throwing the humans at the batarians. That would solve at least one of their problems, perhaps even two. Impressive, they continue to exceed my expectations."

There were nods of agreement all around the room.

"Very well, we will see what happens. meanwhile, there is much to be done. We have a new Kainde Amedha queen. And we have our safety system."

"We can reproduce the substance?"

"We can. But keep in mind that it is not full proof. The engineers found that out, more than once."

Again, nods of agreement.

"Very well, I suggest that we'll proceed as planned. Contact our agent. Once we are ready, well need a vector to introduce the serpents to the galaxy. She will have to find the right individual for that job."

**-o-o-o-**

**Palaven**

The viewscreen shattered as a metal talon smashed through it. It wasn't the first thing Saren had broken, though normally the damage happened by accident. His artificial limb was only a few weeks old and he hadn't become accustomed to it yet.

Peace! They had actually made peace!

Tens of thousands of turian soldiers dead on the battlefield, his brother, HIS BROTHER, executed like a common criminal. And what did the Citadel Council do? What did the HIERARCHY do? They made peace.

He turned away, looking for something, anything to focus his attention on. Anything to distract him from the news.

_There!_

The datapad was still lying on the desk, where he had left it. It contained a download from his omnitool, the last data he had received before his injury. He had been studying it a lot lately, trying to figure out what he was looking at. At first, he had not even realized he had this information. It seemed that his last GHOST infiltrator had linked the feed from his helmet visor to Saren's omnitool, a common practice for special forces. Now he studied it again, and again. There! Just for an instant, a dark shadow moved forward.

_What were the humans doing in that laboratory? _

He already knew they had infiltrator cloaks, even though they denied it. Fools, did they think he wouldn't remember? To his dying day, he would remember that blade, partially translucent, slicing through his flesh. But that was not all. Infiltrator cloaks he understood. This one might have been better than anything he'd ever seen, but the concept remained the same. This creature though, this was something else. And it wasn't the only one of its kind. Rumours were already floating around about the other first contact. That ship, the Calypso, they called it. It had carried these things, and the humans had covered it up, destroyed the evidence.

_What were they hiding?_

Saren didn't know, but he would find out. For that, he needed resources, information, and he had none of these things.

_The council has something almost as good as power, they have access. _That was what Desolas had said, almost the last thing they had discussed. And Desolas had been right. The council had access, and they had used it brilliantly.

Saren sorted through his old messages. There was one, that he had received just before setting out with the invasion force. It was an invitation of sorts: SPECTRE training. He had scoffed at the notion. Why would he want to run around the galaxy as a glorified errand boy for three powerless fools? But it seemed they weren't so powerless, or so foolish. And they had everything he needed.

"Don't worry, Desolas. It will take time, but I will avenge you."

**THE END**

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**In canon, Saren wants revenge on humanity because of the death of his brother. Desolas went crazy after being indoctrinated by a reaper artefact and the humans... were there. That's all. No human was in any way responsible for what happened to Desolas. I decided to change that. Now Saren has a reason for his fixation.  
**

* * *

**It has been a long ride. Originally, I hadn't planned for the story to be nearly this long. But as I was writing it, the story became more complicated. Now that it's come to an end, I want to thank you all for reading it, for your support and reviews, and for sticking with the story, even when I was late with my updates. In particular, I want to thank all those who PMd me for all the useful suggestions and discussions that helped me build up this little fantasy. There is no way I could have done it without your input.  
**

**Meanwhile, the story will continue in my next instalment:**

_**In Torfan, no-one cares if you scream.  
**_

**This will be a short story and though it is set in the same universe, it will not feature either the xenomorphs or the predators. They will return in the story that comes afterwards. I have uploaded the prologue already. Note that it is M-rated, so you may need to adjust the search filter.  
**


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